


The Essence of My Soul to Keep

by BadWolfandTimelords



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2018-06-09 15:37:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 30
Words: 83,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6913069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadWolfandTimelords/pseuds/BadWolfandTimelords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>January 1998- Portland, Oregon. Dean and Sam start over at another high school while John hunts down a mysterious aura. Meanwhile, an impossibly beautiful girl starts school at the same time as the Winchesters. Is she in any way connected to John's case, which could prove dangerous as Dean's starts to fall for her? Continues into the series main events.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
Portland, Washington - January 1998  
Marching through the halls of the local high school, John Winchester was followed by his two sons as they made their way to the office to sign into their sixth high school this school year, first of the New Year. Coming upon the office, John made his way to the main desk as Dean swaggered his way to a chair before plopping himself in it while his little brother Sam looked around the room in defeat and interest. Dean noticed this, and motioned for Sam to come closer.   
"Hey, everything's gonna be okay, alright?" He promised quietly, eyeing their dad to make sure their dad wasn't listening to them. Sam however sighed.  
"Dad said this one will only take 3 weeks, Dean." Sam sighed. "Why can't we just finish the school year in one place?"   
Dean's eyes narrowed slightly. "You know we can't do that, Dad has a job to do, and he always will." This made Sam sigh again as he threw himself into the chair beside his brother, earning a look from their father.   
"Behave, Sam." He said warningly.   
"Yes, sir." Sam ducked his head.   
Watching his brother for a moment, Dean stayed silent for a moment before ruffling Sam's hair with a grin. "Everything will be fine." Sam looked up at Dean's words before smiling weakly at him.   
They were silent for a while as John went through the paperwork to get the boys into the school before the door creaked open and someone walked in. Both Winchester boys swung their gaze to look up at who had entered the office, and what they saw almost made Dean's jaw drop in shock. The girl wasn't overly tall, but she looked to be Dean's age, and to Dean, just so... perfect. Almost too perfect. Her dark chestnut hair fell in waves to her waist where, despite it being early January, it brushed the place where her jean jacket ended and the skirt of her white dress began. He remained stunned as the girl looked around the office, her bright hazel eyes meeting his shocked green eyes. She offered him a brilliant smile and a nod to Sam before standing close to the desk, allowing John a respectable amount of space as she awaited her run with the secretary.   
"Wow." Dean whispered, never taking his eyes off of her. The girl glanced at him, hearing his breathy statement, causing her cheeks to light up slightly in a blush. This made Dean smile wider.   
"Alright, thank you." John shook hands with the secretary before turning to his sons with papers in his hands. "These are your schedules," he handed Sam and Dean their respective schedules. "And behave. You might be here for three weeks, but that doesn't mean you slack off." Both boys nodded. "In that case, I'm off. I'll see you soon." He promised, nodding to them before leaving the office.   
Sam and Dean looked at each other, then, after peeking at their schedules, started to make their way out of the office. However, they were stopped by the voice of the secretary before they got too far. "Excuse me, Dean?" She called.  
Dean stopped and looked at his brother before turning with a smirk on his face. "Yeah?"   
"Claire has the same class as you; perhaps you two could walk together?" She suggested brightly, nodding to the perfect girl.   
Dean looked at her, Claire, and felt his heart race slightly. "Uhh, sure." He stuttered, surprising Sam. He looked from his brother to the girl, before back to his brother. Oh yeah, Dean had it bad.   
Claire beamed at the secretary before taking her own papers. "Thank you, miss." She said politely in an English accent.   
"No problem, my dear." The secretary returned with a smile of her own. "Good luck with your classes, you three!" She bid them before returning to the work before her.   
Walking towards the Winchesters as though she were floating, dancing, Claire smiled at the pair as she stopped beside them. "Shall we then?" She said before leaving the office, Dean hot on her heels. Sam smiled to himself then running after the pair, believing that the following three weeks would prove to be interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Classes had already started by the time the three made their way out of the office, so the halls were silent save for Claire's clicking heels and the scuffling of the Winchesters shoes as they walked along. Sam however stopped and glanced between the room number to his left and the number on his schedule.  
"This is my class." He said, looking up to his brother.   
Dean looked at his brother with a slight smile. "Alright, come find me if someone gives you trouble."   
"Kay." Sam bobbed his head. "Bye, Dean."  
"See ya." He clapped Sam on the shoulder.  
"Good bye, Sam." Claire tilted her head and smiled.  
"Bye, Claire." He said before opening to door to the classroom.   
As the door shut home, Dean turned to Claire coyly. "So Claire, you're from England?"   
She nodded as they turned to continue their way down the hall. "Yes, I moved here with my parents during the Christmas break." They walked in silence momentarily before she spoke again. "What about you? I heard you say you'd only be here for a couple of weeks?"  
"Me?" He asked, surprised. "Oh, uhh... My dad is away on business, so Sam and I are staying in the local motel while we come here."  
"Ah." Claire clutched her books closer in her arms, staring down the hall as they walked slowly. "So... Is your dad on business often?" She asked slowly.   
"Yeah, we move across the country a lot." Dean grinned.   
"Hey," She playfully bumped his shoulder with hers, making Dean's eyes widen. "I've been there. When I lived in England, we moved around a lot, much like you do. Although, when we moved here, it was nice. To stay in one place longer than a couple of weeks, I mean." She smiled up at him.   
Dean looked down at her, speechless for a moment before putting on a smirk. "I prefer to do what I want, when I want." He said.   
Claire shook her head in amusement, her hair swaying. "Why do I have the feeling you would do that regardless of your situation?" She mumbled, a smile dancing across her lips.   
"Just the way I roll, sweetheart." He winked, his heart leaping slightly as he caught the slight blush creeping along Claire's cheeks.   
They stopped to look at each other for a moment, unconsciously stepping so that they were toe to toe. "Sweetheart?" Claire quirked an eyebrow.   
A grin tugged at the corner of Dean's mouth. "You prefer sugar?"  
Claire cocked her head to the side. "I prefer Clairey, actually."   
"Clairey?" Dean repeated, leaning down slightly, now smiling too.  
Inches away from each other, the pair stood there staring each other in the eyes, smiling widely before Claire blinked, and shaking her head, blushed and stepped back. "This is it." She murmured, gesturing to the classroom door to their right.  
Dean closed his eyes, licking his lips before turning his head. "Uhh, yeah."  
Giving him a small encouraging smile, Claire turned on her toes to face the door with Dean close behind. Then, smoothing her skirt she knocked smartly in the door before stepping back and accidentally into Dean's chest. Quickly he grabbed her shoulders, righting her before immediately withdrawing his hands as the door opened to reveal their new teacher. He studied the pair standing outside his classroom. "Dean Winchester and Claire Shanahan?"   
"Pleased to meet you, sir." Claire smiled widely, extending her hand to shake hands with the teacher.   
He smiled back at her as they shook hands. "Yeah, hi. I'm Mr. Carter." He greeted before stepping back. "Why don't you two come on in and meet your class members?"   
Claire looked up and back at Dean happily before skipping into the room. As the pair entered, all the students in the room turned to look at the new comers, straightening up when they studied the two even longer. Immediately murmurs started, whispers expressing their opinions of how attractive the new students were. Boys were winking at Claire who would simply nod politely in return. Surprisingly, Dean paid no mind to the girls who smiled at him flirtatiously, instead focusing on the girl walking in front of him. Noticing all of the looks of lust Claire was receiving, he ground his teeth before his mind cleared. Why should it bother him that guys were staring at Claire like she was something to eat? He'd just met her himself! However, he was brought back to reality when Mr. Carter squeezed himself between the two as to stand beside them, his hands on their shoulders.   
"Class, these are our new students, Dean Winchester and Claire Shanahan." He smiled to the class. "I'm sure you'll join me in making sure they feel welcomed to the class." Mr. Carter then looked to Dean and Claire. "Is there anything you'd like to share with the class?"  
Claire shook her head. "No, sir." She said happily, causing a wave of whispers at her accent.   
Normally, Dean would make a smart-ass comment about it not mattering as he would only be at the school for a couple weeks. However, this time he couldn't bring himself to say the words. So instead, he resigned himself to shaking his head as well.   
"Alright then," Mr. Carter said. "If you two could take your seats there, we'll get started right away."  
Immediately Claire made her way down the isle of desks, her skirt swishing with every step before claiming a desk as her own. A moment after scanning the faces of his classmates, Dean sauntered towards the empty desk beside Claire and plopping into it, earning a giggle from her. Soon after the lecture began, a hush settling over the class. Dean sat waiting for the normal questions: where were his books, his notes? What did snatch him from his brooding however was the sound of metal screeching against the tile floor and his desk jerking as Claire slid her desk across the floor to sit next to him. Wordlessly she put her text book between them before penning down the teachers lecture and whatever he wrote on the board. Dean simply stared at her in wonder as the teacher continued on. Eventually, Claire noticed and snuck a peek at him. She immediately regretted it though as she felt her cheeks heat up making Dean smile a genuine smile.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The rest of the morning went similar as it had in first period for Dean. It turned out Claire has the same classes as he did, so they would go to their next class, be introduced, stir up whispers, sit together, then Claire would drag her desk to be elbow to elbow with him; sharing her books as the lessons progressed. By the time the bell had gone for lunch and as everyone packed up and left the room, Claire was still close to Dean's side, not that he minded of course.   
As she reached for the text book she had placed between them, without thinking, Dean grabbed her pale wrist, causing both to freeze in shock at the action. Slowly Claire raised her eyes to meet Dean's, which were fixed on his hand that had mindlessly reached out. Silently and patiently, she watched his reaction, still as he was frozen in his own world. "Dean?" She asked hesitantly, her words however falling on deaf ears.  
Words, feelings, and emotions flew through Dean's mind as he stared at his hand, so close to Claire's. Slowly he turned his hand, her arm still in his grasp as he rotated her arm, studying her soft and creamy skin, refusing to let go. His fascination with the feeling of her skin against his grew until a small hand covered his.   
"Dean?" His eye snapped up to meet Claire's gaze, her hand on top of his as her fingers curled around his own. He glanced down at their fingers. "Are you okay?" She asked gently, her fingers coiling around his even tighter.   
"Uh, yeah." Dean stuttered.   
Smiling, Claire lowered her gaze to their hands, carefully prying Dean's hand off of her wrist. Immediately both missed the absence of warmth radiating off the other as Dean snatched his hand back and stuffed it into his pocket, shuffling his weight before looking at her. "Wanna eat lunch with me and Sam?" He offered, earning a bright smile from Claire.   
"If that's okay with you." She said shyly.   
"No problem." He shrugged, laughing slightly before smirking. "Well, neither of us know anyone else at this dump, so why not?"   
Surprisingly, Claire returned the smirk. It was gentler than Dean's, but was nonetheless a smirk. "And you'd rather not get to know anyone else?" She teased as she gathered her books in her arms.  
Dean circled around the desks to walk with her as they made their way out into the hall. "Maybe not."  
"All those girl that were drooling over you the past couple hours seem eager to get to know you." Claire shrugged.  
"What? You didn't notice all of the boys staring at you?" Dean shot back.  
They paused in the doorway before heading outside, Claire turning to look up at him. "Of course I noticed, but maybe..." She trailed off before looking to the side embarrassed.   
"Maybe what?" Dean's eyes narrowed.   
Taking a deep breath, Clair tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Shaking her head, she said "Dean, you seem like the type of guy to snatch up any girl who throws themselves into your path, but you surprised me."  
"Oh really?" He crossed his arms.   
"Hey, guys." Sam's voice pulled the two out of their argument, looking to the youngest Winchester as he approached them.   
The two seventeen years stepped back and away from each other, not realising how close they had once again gotten during their discussion. Sam smiled inwardly at their actions. "Hello, Sam." Claire smiled cheerfully at him.   
"Hi, Claire." Sam wasn't overly surprised that he found her and Dean together, his brother had been acting strange since the moment they had seen her, and he doubted the spell would wear off.   
"Claire's gonna hang out with us." Dean announced, nodding to his brother, glaring at him when Sam gave him a teasing look.   
"Alright." Sam shrugged before the three walked out into the school yard.   
"How were your classes?" Claire asked Sam as she walked between the two brothers.   
"Nothing special." He shrugged.   
"No one giving you any trouble?" Dean looked at him, both brothers flashing to the events of the school they had gone to in November last year.   
"No, Dean." Sam sighed as the three quickly crossed the field to avoid being hit with a soccer ball that was being kicked across the field.   
"I don't see why anyone would." Claire stated as she leaned against the chain fence while the boys sat on the cool grass.   
"Because people are jerks." Sam mumbled, his eyes downcast.   
"Amen to that." Dean nodded.   
"Agreed." Claire lowered herself onto the ground next to him.   
Sam eyed the two curiously. "What about you two? Do you two have classes together?"  
"All classes accept for the afternoon class." Claire nodded as she spoke. "They separate the girls and boys gym classes."  
"Okay, I saw we have a vending machine here, anyone want anything?" Dean offered as he got up off the ground.   
"I'm good." Sam declined while Claire shook her head.   
"Alright," Dean smiled at the pair as he backed away. "Stay out of trouble!"  
Watching as he walked away, Claire smiled before noticing Sam staring at her. Blushing, she shook her head, making her dark hair fall into her face. "What did you do to Dean?" He asked, making Claire's head snap up.   
"What do you mean?" She asked in confusion.   
"Dean never smiles that much. Not a real smile anyways." Sam shrugged, plucking a piece of grass from the ground and studying it.   
"Oh..." It was Claire's turn to look down and study the ground this time. "I don't know... Maybe he found somewhere he might belong." She said, gliding her hand across the top of the grass.   
"Or someone." Mumbled Sam.  
"Sorry?" Claire looked at him with a confused smile.   
"Nothing." He shrugged.   
They were silent for a bit before Claire broke the silence. "So what does your dad do, Sam?"   
"Oh, uhh... He's a... Mechanic." Sam drew out.   
"Oh really?" She gave a lopsided, knowing grin. "So is my Dad. Maybe they'll work together."   
"Yeah..." He said unenthusiastically.   
"What are you two up to?" Dean called as he reached where the two sat, sitting with Claire as he cracked open a bottle of coke.   
Sam sent a knowing grin Claire's way, making her blush when she noticed his expression. "Nothing." He shrugged again, still smiling.   
*  
In a motel room in town, John Winchester sat flipping through his journal while talking to someone on the phone. Hidden beside him was a gun. "So people have been complaining about a bright light shining in their windows at night since before the New Year?" He asked, rubbing his eyes.  
"Some have even wreaked their cars because a similar light blinded them at night." Someone on the other end of the line added.   
"You think it could be a ghost?" John flipped to a page in his journal pertaining to ghosts.   
"I don't think this is a ghost," the person contradicted him. "But it's definitely more than a couple of kids screwing around."  
"Okay, I'll look into it." John said. "Could be a spirit or something."   
"You do that." The other person said. "Oh, and John? If you need help, two hunters just moved into the area over the holidays. They should be able to help."   
John looked out the window. "Yeah well, they should be looking into this then, in that case."  
"Give them a break, John. They just moved from another country."   
"Yeah. Talk to you later, Bobby."  
"Good luck, John." Bobby said before both men hung up.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

As the bell rang signaling the end of the day, Dean was the first to break away from the class, trying to hide his excitement as he made his way through the crowd. Along the way, numerous girls gave him sultry looks, purred greetings, put their hands on his shoulders, but Dean simply shrugged them off, one girl in particular on his mind. Finally breaking through the crowd, he saw her leaning against the gym door frame, a smile on her face when she saw him.   
“Hey!” Claire cried, waving to him as he walked towards her. “I had a feeling you’d show up.” she playful said to him, closing the distance herself.  
“Guilty as charged.” he said lowly, looking down at her with a smirk.  
“Should we go find Sam, then?” she suggested, looking to the side.  
Dean sighed before looking up himself. “Yeah, I guess.”   
"So," Claire started as they began to make their way out of the building. "Which is it? Business man or mechanic?" She slid a sly grin Dean's way.   
He looked at her with wide eyes. "Why... Sam." He realized.   
"Yeah." She laughed.   
"Dammit, Sammy." Dean groaned, making Claire laugh more.   
"You might wanna get your cover story solid with your brother before telling people what it is you dad does." She advised him, still smiling.   
"Yeah, how do you know that? Who says it’s a cover story? What do you know?" He challenged.   
"You both said something different, I'm not stupid Dean." Claire mumbled the last part, her gaze downcast.  
Dean immediately regretted what he said, feeling bad as he looked down at her. "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that." Despite his words, her head was still hung low. Stopping, Dean grabbed Claire by the shoulders and prevented her from walking away, before putting a hand under her chin and gently lifted her face to look at his. Her eyes however, were still downcast. "Clairey, I'm sorry." Finally she met his gaze, making him smile slightly. "Really, I mean it."   
For a long moment, they simply stared at one another, watching for what the other might do, searching. Finally, Claire responded, biting her lip before flashing her eyes down and back up to meet Dean's, then eventually smiling slightly. "Okay." She said quietly. It was silent again. "We should go."  
Dean grabbed her wrist as she turned to walk away, too shy to grab her hand, but he immediately relinquished his grasp as it felt as though both had been shocked. Quickly he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Clairey, we're good, right?"  
"Of course." She promised. Dean's frame relaxed in relief. "I can't lose the only friend I have at this school, even if you're not here for overly long."  
At this Dean's heart fell, his shoulders sagging in regret. "I'm here now though." He said hopefully.   
Walking out into the cool afternoon air, Claire smiled up at him as they made their way down the front steps towards where Sam stood on the pavement below. "That's all that matter for now." She agreed before waving to Sam. "Hey, Sammy."  
Sam did not smile or say anything in return however, instead looking to his brother. "Dean..." He said, trailing off as he looked across the parking lot.   
Dean followed Sam's gaze to where he saw his dad's impala, waiting for them. "No..." He whispered in horror.   
"What?" Claire asked in confusion, looking to where the Winchesters were looking. "Is that your dad?" She asked.  
"He said three weeks." Dean shook his head, Sam's shoulders fell.   
"Does that mean you're leaving?" Claire looked between Dean, Sam and the car.   
"I don't know..." Sam said quietly.   
The three of them stood there looking at the car before someone finally moved. "Well... If you're here tomorrow, I'll be where we spent lunch," Claire lifted her head high and squared her shoulders. "But if not, it was nice meeting you two."   
Sam smiled up at her sadly. "It was nice to meet you too, Claire."  
Dean tried to say something, but the words were stuck in his throat. He didn't want to say good bye. "Bye Sam, bye Dean." Claire gave them one final, sad smile before walking away. They watched her go, all three feeling a sense of loss: but what Sam and Dean didn't see were the tears in Claire's eyes as she walked away, failing to swallow the large lump in her throat.   
The Winchesters staring however was interrupted as their dad honked the horn of the impala, making them look towards him. "Do you think Dad is pulling us out?" Sam asked as they made their way through the parking lot.   
"I don't know, Sammy." Dean shrugged, walking around to the passenger door before sliding into the vehicle.   
"Hey Dad." Sam said as he climbed into the backseat.   
"Who was the girl?" John said straightforwardly.  
"Claire, she was in the office this morning." Dean responded as they blew past her. She stopped walking to watch them drive away, and what he noticed was it seemed that she had tears in her eyes. Why would Claire be sad? "She's a new student like us." He choked out eventually, looking at the road ahead.   
"She in any of your classes?" John continued the interrogation.   
"All classes but one, sir." Dean replied.   
"Hmph." This girl was new, and Bobby had said some hunters had moved into the area. Maybe this was their kid, if they had one that was; and if she was, of course the hunter kids were drawn to the hunter kids. Despite the thoughts running through his mind, John said nothing. It wouldn't matter anyways, once this hunt was over, they'd be gone and Sam and Dean wouldn't see the girl again. Besides, it was dangerous for a hunter to make emotional connections.  
"Why did you come get us?" Dean finally said, his tone hard. "You never pick us up unless you've finished a hunt."  
John glanced at his eldest son. "We're not leaving yet; this hunt has to be done at night."   
"Vampires?" Sam asked from the back.   
"I don't know what it is." John replied, glancing at Sam in the rear-view mirror. "All I know is that it's a ball of light that it appears at night."   
"So we're staying?" Dean said, refusing to let the hope he felt rising in chest to be evident in his voice.   
John sent him a sharp look. "Don't get too attached to that girl," he warned. "Attachments are a dangerous thing. Understand?"  
"Yes sir." Sam and Dean said in unison. However, both brothers had no intention in following that order.   
*  
The following day as students milled about the yard with their friends, the sun casting a golden glow across the school. By the fence Claire stood clutching her books close, hugging them closer as she scanned the field and failed to locate her friends. Slowly she lowered her head, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to force back the tears that attempted to make themselves known. Through clenched teeth, Claire breathed in as she tried to calm herself when she heard her name called.   
"Clairey!" She heard someone shout. Her head snapped up in the direction the voice came from to see Sam and Dean walking towards her with smiles on their faces. Immediately she dropped her books in disbelief before sprinting across the field and almost knocking Dean off of his feet. It caught him off guard; because for someone who was so fragile looking, Claire was quite strong. However nonetheless, after a stunned moment of being hugged tightly, he reciprocated the hug just as tightly, going so far as to lift her off the ground and spinning her in a circle before setting her back down. Claire then turned around to Sam, and because she was only an inch or so taller than he was, it made hugging him easier. Finally, she back away from them, all three smiling at each other happily.   
"You aren't getting rid of us that easily, Clairey." Dean teased her, his smile getting much wider.  
"I'm glad." Claire smiled, any trace of tears now gone. She took Dean's hand in hers and wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulders as they began to walk to where Claire had dropped her books.   
Despite knowing that he would soon be gone, Dean decided to ignore his Dad's rule and not avoid Claire. She somehow made him feel happy, and more than complete. So for now, he gently but firmly held on to her hand tighter, not willing to let go. Claire felt the added pressure on her hand and looked to her hand in Dean's, moving her hand to intertwine their fingers. Looking to each other, they smiled brightly as they made their way across the field before class began.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The dark streets were empty as John walked along the sidewalk, his shoulders hunched as he kept his hand discreetly on his gun. The problem with this hunt was that it could only be done from midnight to before the sun rose, for he had only captured glimpses of his target, but had never gotten close to it. From what John could tell though, it was simply an orb of glowing light, nothing more. However, whenever he tried to approach it, to get a closer look, it would speed away, as though it was frightened, and then it would be gone. So, the past week was spent sleeping and researching, while the nights were reserved for hunting.   
Rounding a corner, John suddenly became bathed in a warm and soothing light. Immediately looking up, he saw the orb of light floating in front of a dark blue house. Gun in his hand at the ready, he inched closer to the light, surprised to hear a heart breaking humming coming from the orb, as though it were sad to see the house. Never in the times he had caught a glimpse of it had John ever heard it emanating a sound, but now the sound it made could bring tears to one's eyes, as though the orb itself were crying.   
Inch by inch he stepped forward, trying to get as close as he could, he was only a couple feet away when the orb shifted, seemingly turning to face him before shuddering with a high pitched whine and zooming away. Lowering his gun, John watched it zoom off and sigh in annoyance. This time he had gotten so close only to scare it off. Although, at least now he knew it wouldn't attack for now. Even if it was simply an innocent and curious being, it had caused trouble, attracted attention to itself, and John wanted to know what it was.   
*  
Despite John making no progress with his hunt, both Sam and Dean had rapidly grown close to Claire, and vice versa for her. For Sam, Claire provided the feminine voice that he had so desperately craved for most of his life. However, the most noticeable bond was how close Claire and Dean had grown. They could always be found together while on break with Sam, and in class, Claire and Dean were inseparable. Each class either Claire or Dean would slide their desk to the other's, silently work together as their peers would talk amongst their own groups, occasionally sending glances and glares at the new students who refused to interact with anyone other than themselves. Neither of them particularly cared however, they were simply content, happy even, to be in each other’s company.   
It was on the Monday of the second week in Portland that things began to change between the two seventeen year olds. Final classes had ended for the day, and Dean more or less rushed down the hall as per usual to where Claire would always be waiting with a smile that would lift his heart. Today however as he got closer, he couldn't find Claire where she hardly was. Quickly he scanned the area, searching for the girl in the white dress. To his disappointment though he could not find her. Instead, the only girls he could see were the girls who had been drooling over him since day one while casting Claire...  
"Hi, Dean." A blonde approached him slowly, seductively.   
"Uh, hi." He said in return, standing on his tip toes to look over the sea of people.   
"So," she persisted, stepping into his field of view. "Me some of the girls are having a party tonight. You wanna come?"  
Usually, at any other school, under any other circumstances, Dean would have immediately said yes. Here was a hot girl, and her friends, literally throwing themselves at him and he was turning them down as though they were nothing. He knew why though, it was Claire. Recently it always came back to her... But why? It was the simple fact that she made him happy, he enjoyed being with her. It was in that moment that it hit Dean that he may actually be in love with the girl. "No thanks. Listen, you see Claire around?" He asked, finally looking at her.   
The girl's expression fell at his words, her lips forming a pout. "Why would you want to hang out with her when you can hang out with us?" She asked, a strange glint in her eye.   
"Because she's my friend." Dean said, his tone hard. "Now tell me where she is." He ordered, earning stares from those passing by, but he didn't care. Claire meant a lot to him, and he wasn't about to let her slip through his fingers while he was still around.   
The girl's jaw dropped in shock, her brow furrowing in anger. "She ran out." She stated. Dean turned and began to walk away before the girl continued speaking. "Good riddance if you ask me. You shouldn't waste your time with her Dean, when you can do so much better."  
He came to a complete stop, turning sharply on his heel to face the girl with a seething expression. "Go to hell." He hissed before storming away, leaving the hall and making his way outside. Stopping on the front steps, Dean began scanning the school grounds, searching the crowds to locate his friend, but to no avail. His eyes wandered past "their" spot, but saw no one there but Sammy. Sam saw his brother standing on the steps and watched him, watched him search the crowds. He was alone, so he was undoubtedly searching for Claire.   
Curiously, Dean looked towards the wood across the field, lining the school grounds. It was then he saw it, the ivory hiding amongst the needles of the tall pine trees. Despite the chill that had crept up on the town, there was still no snow to be seen, which could only mean one thing. Immediately Dean jogged down the steps, pushing past people before reaching the field and flat out running across it to the tree line. After an antagonising long moment, he finally reached the trees where he came to a slow walk. After a moment of listening, he could hear the sobs coming from up in the tree. Tilting his head up Dean found Claire with her back to the trunk of the tree, legs on either side of the branch as she sat with her eyes closed, tear tracks gleaming down her face. Jumping up, he grabbed the branch hanging above him before hauling himself into the tree and climbing up to sit facing Claire on her branch.   
They sat there silently, Claire with her eyes closed and Dean staring at her face before he spoke. "You know, not that I'm complaining, but seeing as how you're in a dress, it might not be the best idea to be sitting up here." He teased, a soft smirk on his face. Claire tilted her head up slightly, smiling weakly before opening her eyes to look at Dean, the tears once again starting to flow. "Hey," he said softly, retaining his balance as he leaned forward to grasp her hands. "What's wrong?"   
"Nothing." Claire whispered, closing her eyes as she slowly shook her head, the bark of the tree trunk rough on the back of her head. The tears started to flow again.   
Dean looked down to the ground for a moment. "What did those girls do to you?" He asked quietly, glancing at her.   
Claire's breath came out loud and shaky as she began to gasp for air. "They-they called me a w-whore." She stuttered, her mouth turning down in a frown and grimace as she began to cry.   
Dean squeezed his eyes shut, looking away so Claire wouldn't see the look of rage on his face. "And why would they do that?" He said through clenched teeth.   
"Because I'm always around you and Sam, namely you." Claire shrugged. "And because I'm always wearing dress, they think I'm desperate to..." She couldn't finish before beginning to cry even further.   
Normally Dean was uncomfortable with a girl crying in front of him, but this was Claire. He felt complete around her, he felt happy; and to know that it was his fault that she was bullied, simply because they were friends; close friends with the week they had gotten to know each other, and Dean wouldn't lie if he'd privately admit he wished for something stronger. Not anything like what he wanted from any other girl he had dated, but to simply be with her forever. For now however, he simply leaned farther forward, withdrawing his hands to wrap his arms around Claire and pull her into his chest where she cried even harder. Gently he tucked her head beneath his chin, resting his head on hers as he rubbed her back soothingly. The pair sat amongst the pine needles for a while, Dean sitting silently making sure neither one of them fell out of the tree as Claire cried her heart out, soaking his shirt with her salty tears.   
Slowly, her sobs turned into whimpers, and finally silence. Regardless, she remained in Dean's embrace, even wrapping her arms around his torso and carefully shimmying her way on the branch to bury herself deeper into his chest. His grasp on her tightened significantly as he buried his face into her hair, breathing in her scent. "I'm going to tear their lungs out." He muttered into her hair, taking in her vanilla scent.   
Surprisingly, Claire managed a weak laugh. "I don't doubt you could." Her voice was muffled as she spoke into his chest before pulling back to give him a slight bleary eyed smile.   
Dean gave her a small smile. "They're just jealous you get me all to yourself."   
Claire managed another weak smile before looking down to the ground. "I'm wearing tights by the way, dumbass." She rolled her eyes, looking pointedly at her brown tights clinging to her skin, referring to Dean's earlier comment about her hiding place and choice of fashion.   
Together they laughed, locking gazes before lapsing again into silence, simply smiling. "You okay now?" Dean asked, tilting his head to the side.   
"Not really." Claire shook her head, looking towards the school sadly.   
Holding his breath, Dean thought for a moment before blurting out "Why don't you come hang out with me and Sammy later tonight?"  
This time it was Claire turn to stop breathing, ever so slowly raising her gaze up to meet his. "What about your dad?" She asked slowly.   
"He'll be out all night; we'd have the room to ourselves." Dean shrugged.   
"I don't want you getting in trouble..." Claire mumbled, looking down.   
"Hey," Dean put his finger tips under chin and tilted Claire's face up to look at his. At his action she stopped breathing. "Just come, okay?"  
Blinking back tears, she nodded, making him smile. Around them the wind blew gently, enveloping each other with the other's scent. Dean closed his eyes and inhaled Claire's vanilla scent as the smell of Dean's leather jacket played at Claire's senses. Both closed their eyes, seduced by the others scents dancing around them, unconsciously leaning in. Their lips had barely grazed each other when a shout shocked them both back to reality, instantly pulling back from each other in shock as they locked gazes then looked to the ground.   
"Dean? Claire?" Sam called as he ran closer to the tree line, looking around.   
"Dammit, Sammy." Dean whispered as he watched his brother through the branches as he got closer to where the two were hiding. At his words, Claire immediately hid her face from Dean, trying not to let him see her cheeks flame red in embarrassment. "Over here." Dean called louder.  
On the ground Sam saw Claire's books at the base of a pine tree and ran over. Stopping, her looked up to see his brother and Claire sitting high up in the branches. "What are you doing up there?" He asked, looking at them curiously.   
"Planning." Dean shrugged; swinging his left leg over the branch and began to climb down the tree, jumping the rest of the way once he was close enough to the ground.  
Sam looked at Dean oddly. "Planning what?"  
"Claire's going to come over tonight. We'll all watch a movie or something." Dean looked from Sam to Claire, then back to Sam.   
For a moment Sam perked up before his excited expression fell. "But what about dad?"  
"Sam's right, Dean." Claire spoke from where she was still seated on the tree branch, however now both legs dangled from the same side of the branch. "I don't want to impose."  
"And you won't." Dean insisted, turning to look up at her. "Promise."   
Claire bit her lip, unsure as she looked between the two brothers. "Okay..." She said slowly.   
"Alright," Dean nodded with a smile. "We should probably get going." He looked away to the school yard, which was almost empty.   
"Yeah." Claire agreed before beginning to climb down. When her boot reached the branch, she turned so she could sit on it. She was about to slip off the branch and jump down to the ground when Dean held his hands up.   
"Let me help you." He said.   
Nodding in response, Claire carefully leaned forward to place her hands on Dean's shoulders as he firmly but gently placed his hands on her hips. Quickly Claire snuck a glimpse at Dean's hands on her hips, blushing at how normal, how right it felt to be in his grasp, as strange as that may have sounded to her. The two locked gazes, Dean nodding before Claire slipped off the branch, falling the short way to the ground with Dean guiding her descent. Her boots made a satisfying thump as she landed with ease on the ground, however, neither Dean nor Claire relinquished their grasp on the other, hazel orbs never straying from green orbs.   
Sam watched his brother and their friend stare at each other, trying to hide the smile that attempted to make itself known. It was only after a minute or so of silence that neither Dean or Claire had moved that Sam finally spoke. "Dean?"   
For the second time that day in a short time span, Sam made the two break away. Immediately they dropped their hands, both privately regretting it, but kept eye contact as Dean began to speak. "Come to our motel room at 8:00?" He asked.  
Claire bit her lip before nodding. "Okay."  
"You remember where it is, right?"   
"Yup." She answered, remembering when Dean had told her where to find them should the occasion ever arise.   
"Alright." Dean nodded, looking her in the eye before gathering her in his arms once more, holding her tight and close. "Don't worry about them, they don't matter, okay?" He murmured into her hair. Against his chest he felt Claire nod slowly, not knowing how much she appreciated his action. Finally they broke away, Dean looking to Sam as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "We'll see you later, okay?" He studied her face. While her eyes were no longer watery, Claire's eyes were red from the amount of crying she had done. Nonetheless, she silently nodded, her chestnut hair falling like a veil to cover a part of her face.   
"Bye Claire." Sam said as the two brothers turned and walked away. Once they were out of earshot, Sam turned his head to look at Dean. “What happened?” Was all he asked.   
Turning his head, Dean looked back at Claire sadly, her hair blowing in the breeze. “I’ll explain at the motel.” He promised, throwing his arm around his brother’s shoulders as pulling him close as they walked.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Why would they do that?" Sam asked, shaking his head in confusion.   
Dean had just finished explaining what had happened to Claire, leaving him shocked and disgusted at the events that had left their friend in an awful state. "Because people are mean, Sammy." He said. "People will do anything to get what they want."  
Sam shook his head again before locking gazes with his brother. "Those girls being jealous of her for being around you all the time, I can understand that. But how am I involved in this?"   
"I dunno, Sam." Dean shrugged, putting his hands in his face. "Probably because you're always with us when we're not in class. It just fuels their argument, something to use against her." They sat in silence for a moment, thinking. "Besides, it's me they're trying to get to. It's my fault."  
"New kids always get picked on," Sam muttered before talking louder. "It's none of our faults. We didn't do anything wrong." While Dean wordlessly nodded, he still couldn't help but feel guilty. He knew that Sam was right, but that didn't erase the pain and guilt he felt regardless.   
Suddenly there was a soft knock at the door, making both Winchesters freeze in defence, Dean's hand flinching towards. "I come in peace." Claire's voice floated from outside the door. Both boys sighed in relief and relaxed, Dean moving to open the door. As it swung open, it revealed Claire clutching a box in one hand and a plastic bag in the other, her eyes red as though she had been crying. "I come bearing a gift." She cracked a broken smile, holding up the pizza box.   
Smiling, Dean stepped forward to scoop Claire up in a hug, which was a rather awkward hug considering her hands were full. Nonetheless, she let herself melt into his arms slightly in relief, feeling safe and warm there. "A woman after my own heart." Dean said into the top of her head before pulling back to look at her.   
"Hi, Dean." She smiled before looking past him and into the room. "Hi, Sam."   
"Hey, Claire." Sam responded, walking over to the doorway. "Here." He took the pizza and shopping bag from Claire and took it to the small counter.   
"Thank you." Claire said gratefully, rubbing her hands together in relief before shrugging off her vest.   
"You didn't have to bring anything." Dean turned to look at her after watching Sam.  
"It was the appropriate thing to do." She shrugged.   
"Well," Dean said, slipping his hand with ease, yet still shyly, into Claire's. "Why don't we grab some pizza and find something to watch on TV?" He suggested.   
Claire looked down in private fascination at their hands, lifting them slightly as though to get a better look. Dean was about to pull his hand out of hers, but instead Claire squeezed it, looking up at him with a dazzling smile. "You guys go ahead and eat," she said. "I'm not hungry."  
"You sure?" Sam asked from the table. "We never see you eat."  
A troubled look flashed across her face. "I haven't been overly hungry lately." Claire said. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."   
Dean studied her for a moment before tugging gently on her hand. "Okay." He led her into the room, closing the door behind them. "Hey Sammy, grab me a plate?" He asked, leading Claire to the couch.   
"I didn't know what to get, so I got just pepperoni." Claire said, throwing her vest on to the nearby recliner and fidgeting with a silver ring on her right hand. "I hope that's okay." She looked up at Dean shyly as she sat down.   
He smiled down at her. "Yeah, no problem. Thought that counts, right?" He moved to the table to grab a couple of slices before looking at the plastic bag. "What's in there?" Dean asked, looking at Claire as he pointed to the bag.   
Claire hugged her knees to her chest. "Coca-Cola." She shrugged.   
Shifting the bottles in the bag around, Dean found a cardboard box and pulling it out, held it up for Claire to see. "And what's this?"   
Looking up at it, she got off the couch and walked to stand in front of Dean, reaching up to pluck the disposable camera box from his grasp. "Well, you two will be gone soon." She said slowly. "So in the event if I never see you again, I want to remember what you look like."  
Dean looked at her sadly before forcing a smile. "Good idea." He choked out.  
Turning over the box in her hand, Claire read the box then shyly looked up through her hair at him. "I wouldn't forget you, don't worry."   
"You better not." He smirked. There was then a ripping sound followed a click and a flash as Claire took a picture of him. Despite being glared at by him, Claire simply smiled sweetly at him as though she had done nothing. "Hey, hey!" Dean said, reaching forward to snatch the camera, but Claire ran away giggling, clutching the camera as though it were a life line. Immediately he chased after her, dodging and climbing over furniture trying to catch her. From the sofa Sam watched the two happily, glad to see his brother smile so much as he chased the girl around the small room.   
Finally, as they ran past in front of the sofa it was then Dean managed to snatch Claire, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulled her back into his chest. Squealing in delight she lost her balance fell back into him, causing them to crash on to the couch. Dean's arms constricted around her waist as they fell, pressing her close so that she was in his lap. Pressing his face into the crook of her neck, he smiled as he made his arm a vise grip around her waist as with his other arm he reached for the camera. "Give it!" He said, smiling widely at Claire's increasing giggles.  
"No! She squealed, squirming in an attempt to get away.   
As he leaned forward, trying to get a better angle to snatch the camera away, Dean looked to Sam. "Cummon, man!" He said, a twinkle in his eyes. "Help me out here!"  
Sam shook his head grinning. "You're on your own." Dean shot him a dirty look that made him laugh. "Well there's nothing you can do, now that she's taken the picture."  
By this point Dean was back to trying to take the camera from a resisting Claire. "I can make sure she doesn't take any more unprepared pictures." He grunted.  
Experimentally, he pressed his fingers into her side, making her flinch. Quickly he grabbed the camera from her, snapping a picture as she spun around with a mischievous grin on her face. "So you decide to take pictures of me instead?" She quirked an eyebrow.   
Dean shrugged. "You started it." Was all he said before lifting her gently off his lap and placing her on the seat beside him. Getting up, he retrieved his pizza on the table and a bottle of coke then headed back to the sofa where he threw himself on to it, sitting on Claire's left as Sam sat on her right. Leaving forward, Dean grabbed the remote off the coffee table and switched the TV on. Immediately the screen flashed to life, sounds blaring from the speakers as he flipped through the channels. "So, what should we watch?" He asked, horking down on the food on his plate.   
As he flipped through the channels, suddenly Claire's hand shot out to cover his hand holding the remote, effectively stopping him from changing the channels, choosing instead to look at her hand covering his. "Wait!" She exclaimed, her eyes fixed on the screen before them.   
"What?" Sam asked, glancing at the two older teenagers, noticing where his brother's gaze was glued to, before shifting his own gaze to the screen as well.  
"Sorry," Claire shook her head, watching the cartoon trailer play on the screen. "I really like the looks of this movie." She smiled slightly.   
"What is it?" Sam watched and listened.   
"It's called The Prince of Egypt." Noticing her grip on Dean's hand, Claire let go. "It's basically a retelling of The Ten Commandments." She leaned back.  
"Cool." Sam nodded.   
"I really like the sounds of it." Claire smiled. "I'm going to see it when it comes out."  
"How about we figure out what to watch now before we plan on what to watch in the future?" Dean suggested, leaning back as well.   
Claire turned to look at him wide eyed for a moment before looking back the TV. "I heard the Sci-Fi channel is playing a Star Wars marathon tonight." She suggested.   
"Sammy?" Dean looked to his brother for a verdict.   
"I'm okay with it." Sam shrugged.   
"Okay," Dean said, turning to the correct channel as everyone settled in for the long night ahead of them. "Star Wars it is."   
*  
By the time Return of the Jedi was half way through, the room was dark and both Sam and Claire had fallen asleep. Dean looked at the two of them, smirking slightly at the sight before him. He had returned his attention to the TV screen when something warm and solid made contact with his arm. Looking down in surprise he saw that Claire's head had lolled to the side, leaving her to sleep while leaning against Dean's arm as she slept. Smiling to himself, Dean watched for a moment before glancing at the clock on the wall which read 11:30. Now frowning, Dean looked at Claire and, wrapping an arm gently around her shoulder, began to shake her slightly in an attempt to wake her up.   
"Claire," he whispered into her ear. "Clairey!"  
"Mmmhhh..." She hummed sleepily, burrowing her way deeper into Dean's side, making in laugh lowly in amusement.   
"Cummon, Clairey. You should head home soon." He laid his cheek on the top of her head.   
"Noooo..." Claire's accent was garbled as she moaned in protest.   
"Your parents will worry."  
"They're not even in town." She shot back sleepily.  
Dean raised an eyebrow in surprise. "What do you mean?" He asked.   
Rolling slightly to lie on her stomach, Claire lifted her head to rest her chin on Dean's shoulder, cracking her eyes open slightly. "Ever since new year’s I haven't seen them, not since we celebrated the New Year in our new house." She shrugged. "Woke up at the motel the next day and they were gone."  
"What happened?" He asked in concern, thinking about his dad's current case.   
"Don't worry, Dean." Claire rested her head in the crook of his neck. "This isn't the first time my parents have done this. Just a part of the job." She sighed sadly.   
"Yeah, know the feeling." Dean muttered.   
"Mmhhhmmm." She hummed again.  
In his side Dean could feel Claire's warm weight start to relax into him. Glancing down at her he saw that she had begun to fall asleep once more. “Hey,” he nudged her lightly again. “You should get going.”  
“Mhhhhhhhh, fine.” Claire moan, squinting as she slowly sat up.   
“Sorry I can’t walk you home or something.” Dean apologized, leaning forward to tentatively rub her back as she remained sitting up but dropping her head low.   
“It’s fine, take care of Sammy.” Claire said, getting up off the sofa, Dean close on her heels. “I’m only just down the road and around the corner."  
"Well... Alright." Dean said reluctantly, helping her into her vest.  
Turning on her heel, Claire smirked at him slightly, making it look more like a lopsided grin. "I'll have you know I am more than capable of defending myself."  
Immediately Dean's eyes flickered over her petite, porcelain like figure, a spark of worry igniting within him. "Just be careful, okay?" He begged quietly, smiling gently.   
Looking Dean straight in the eye, Claire stood on her tip toes and wrapped her arms around his neck in a hug, Dean wrapping his arms carefully around her torso in returClaire mumbled the promise. "I had fun. Thanks for this." She broke away, putting her hand on the door knob.   
"We should do this again." Dean leaned against the wall.   
Claire shook her head smiling slightly. "Yeah," she agreed. "I'd like that."  
"So would I." He returned.   
They stood there smiling at each other before Claire shook her head once more. "Good night, Dean." She bid him farewell before opening the door and leaving.   
"Bye, Clairey." He whispered, moving to stand in the doorway to watch her descend the flight of stairs and walk through the parking lot of the motel.   
*  
A few minutes later Claire was walking down the main street, the occasional car driving past. Over the past few days, a cold wind had begun to blow through the town, especially now, causing her to cross her arm and hunch her shoulders, clutching the lace covered sleeves of her dress closer to her arms. Despite being wrapped up in her own world, she was well aware of her surrounding, prepared for anything.   
Suddenly, there was a blinding light in front her. Snapping her head up, Claire was surprised to see a beautiful ball of light floating feet before her, emitting a hum that could break ones heart. Eyes wide, Claire slowly walked towards her, reaching into her vest pocket to take out a silver switch blade. Covered in the warm light, she felt a calming sensation wash over her, feeling almost, though not entirely, complete. As she inched forward, Claire began to reach her finger tips towards the strange aura. However, the closer she got, her body began to feel as though it were on fire. Claire stopped, reaching for her chest and gasping in pain as she felt a tight and almighty pain build up in her heart, a building scream in her ear. Now the light began to float towards her, the blinding pain increasing to the point where she dropped to her knees, a small cry of pain pealing past her lips unwillingly.   
The light began to hum louder as it grew closer before it stopped, and emitting a strange panicked hum, sped off in the opposite direction and out of sight. Once released from its grasp, Claire completely dropped to the ground, curling into a ball on her side as the waves of pain began to disappear with each pant she expelled. The sound of heavy footfalls slapping against the pavement alerted her of a person approaching, so quickly she concealed her knife, yet still kept it ready at moments notice, squeezing her eyes shut.   
"Hey, hey!" A man's voice called before the person ran and dropped to her side. "You okay?" He asked, gently rolling her over.   
Claire's face contorted in pain. "Yeah, I think so." She mumbled through clenched teeth. Opening her eyes she looked up to see a familiar face.   
"Here." The man offered her a hand up.  
Taking it, she looked over him, racking her brain as she tried to figure out where she had seen him before it clicked. "Aren't you Mr. Winchester?" She asked carefully.  
Surprise flickered across John's face. "Who are you?" He asked.   
"Oh, uh. I'm Claire Shanahan." She bit her lip before holding her hand out with a slight smile. "I was in the office when you entered your sons into the school."   
"Oh," John said, remembering what Dean had told him about her; also remembering he told them to stay away from this very girl. "Hello." He shook her hand.   
Claire smiled a little again before dropping her hand to look in the direction the light had zoomed off in. "Mr. Winchester, what was that?" She shook her head.   
"I don't know." He looked around. "But you should stay indoors; it's not safe to be out this late at night."  
"Yes, sir." The words slipped easily off her tongue as she nodded to John. "Have a good night, Mr. Winchester." She said before running down the street, not bothering to wait for a reply, leaving him to watch her retreating form.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The following morning found the town covered in a light snowfall, a slight chill hanging in the mid-January air. Snow stuck to Sam and Dean's shoes as they walked through the field, making their way to Claire who stood waiting at their traditional spot, a smile on her face.   
"Hello!" She called cheerfully, waving to the brothers before crossing her arms.   
"Hey Claire." Sam grinned.   
"Hello yourself." Claire mussed up his shaggy hair, making him laugh and shove her hand away playfully.   
Dean smiled at the sight before him. "Aren't you cold in a dress?" He teased.   
Claire turned her hazel gaze to meet his bright green gaze with a gentle smirk. "I'm wearing tights, dumbass." She shot back, similar to what she had said the previous day, clutching her jacket closer.   
"Still," his eyes quickly slid over her petite form. "You're not cold?"   
"Maybe." Claire relented, her face faltering.  
"Cummon, let's go inside." Dean nodded towards the school.  
Biting her lip, Claire looked between Dean and the building before shaking her head. "There's still half an hour or so before classes start," she looked to the tree she had been sitting in yesterday. "Mind if we sit up there for a bit?"  
Sam and Dean looked at each other worriedly before looking back to their friend, immediately knowing what was causing the stall for what she dreaded. "You won't have to deal with those girls alone, Clairey." Dean said quietly, carefully taking her small hand in his.  
Claire's gaze flickered from their joined hands to Dean's eyes before she nodded slowly. "Okay." She whispered.   
Smiling at her, Dean tugged softly on her hand, encouraging her to walk with him towards the school. With Sam on her left, and Dean on her right, Claire began to gain more confidence as they walked, content to know the brothers would never abandon her.   
*  
For most of the day, they encountered no problems. People would still cast glances and glares at Claire and Dean, but it was not beyond the norm. This time however, the bubble had been penetrated, and Claire was aware of the stares, her cheeks flaring a vibrant red each time she felt their weight. However, each time Dean would simply nudge her foot lightly, giving her a slight encouraging smile.   
Too soon though, final period was upon them, now leaving the two around the corner from the girl's change room saying a temporary good bye. For a long while, they stood to the side of the passing crowd, simply staring into each other’s eye wordlessly before Claire was the one to break her gaze away to look behind her. Sighing, Dean put a hand on her shoulder and tentatively took her chin into his hand to turn her face towards and to look up at his. Looking down into her watery hazel eyes, he smiled gently. "Hey, I'll meet you after class, okay?"  
Claire's lower lip trembled as she looked up at him, looking away for a slight second before throwing her arms around his neck, standing on her tip toes as she hugged him tightly. Immediately Dean wrapped his arms around her waist in response, holding her close to him as he buried his face into the crook of her neck, her long chestnut hair soft against his face. "I've faced things far worse than them," Claire mumbled into Dean's chest. "So then why am I so scared of them?"  
Dean sighed sadly into her neck. "Because people can be cruel." He weaved his fingers through her curls, the smell of vanilla enveloping his senses. "But hey," Dean said, pulling away to look at her and smile. "I'll always be there for you. "  
Claire tilted her head to the side, studying him with wide eyes before blinking away the unshed tears and slowly nodding in agreement. "I'll see you after class." She said slowly, bowing her head as she refused to meet his gaze.  
Looking down at her, Dean hesitated for a moment before reaching around to place his hand on the back of Claire's neck to bring her head to rest against his chest. Gently, he placed a kiss on the top of her head, squeezing his eyes shut as he did so. All too soon however, the moment was over. Dropping his hand, Dean stepped away and smiled. "I'll see you soon." He promised. Slowly Claire raised her gaze to shyly look at Dean, a blush creeping along her cheeks that made him smile. With a final nod, Dean walked away, looking back one last time as he made his way down the hall. The sight behind him made him grin even wider; Claire was still blushing, a small smile of her own dancing across her lips.   
*  
The moment the bell had rung, Dean had bolted down the hall, walking as fast as he dared towards the school gym. Once the gym doors were within sight, he focused on them, looking, searching. Immediately he saw her, biting her lip and hiding behind her dark hair as the "popular" girls stood around her, laughing and pointing. Without a second thought, Dean rushed over, pushing his way through the circle to the center, and intertwining his fingers with Claire when he reached her side. Her hand hung limply in his, her hair forming a curtain as it hid her face from view. The moment Dean reached her side, the laughter died down, the occasional snicker taking its place.   
"I told you before, Dean." The blonde from yesterday stepped forward, an unattractive smirk on her face. "Ditch that loser and come hang with us."   
Dean simply glared at her. "And I told you, I'm not interested."  
There was an unimpressed grumble coming from the ring that circled around them. The blonde looked to her friends offended before sneering at Claire. "Wow, Shanahan. What did you do to make him so loyal to you?"  
"She was nice to me, you crazy bitch." Dean said loudly, his face clouding over in rage.   
The girl looked at him in shock, her eyes glinting before she turned her venomous gaze back to Claire. "Nice, huh? How many times you let him into your skirt, Shanahan?" She shot.   
Dean stepped forward towards her with a fierce glare. "Hey-" he thundered before Claire tightened her grip on his hand, gently pulling him back.   
"About as many times as you ever have and ever will, Jay." Came Claire's soft and cool response, lifting her head to lock her tear-stained, but challenging gaze with the blonde bully.   
Jay's jaw dropped in shock before her face evolved into an expression of fury. "How dare you!?!" She screeched, lunging forward.   
Immediately Dean dropped Claire's hand and stepped in front of her, protecting her from harms away. "I don't think so." He said lowly, feeling Claire's small hands grasping the left sleeve of his leather jacket.   
Shoulders hunched and eyes narrowed, Jay stepped back to glare at the two. "You're making a big mistake, Dean." She warned him.   
"I'll take my chances." Dean said before turning around and throwing his arm around Claire's shoulders, pulling her close into his side as they walked away. Both were silent as they made their way through the halls and finally to the front doors where Sam stood waiting, looking out the window before hearing the approaching footsteps and turning around.   
"Hey guys, what took so long..." Sam said when he saw his brother and their friend, trailing off when he saw their facial expressions. "What happened?" He asked cautiously.  
"Later, Sammy." Dean told him, glancing at him as he continued to walk. Opening the door to the outside, a frigid gust of wind blew on to the three, and Claire, who was already quivering like a leaf, shook even worse, except this time from the cold. Noticing this, Dean opened his coat to tuck her into his side within his warm jacket. With her arms hugging his torso, Claire melted into Dean's side, making him constrict his arm around her shoulders tighter. Looking down at her, Dean thought for a moment before speaking. "You're going to come with us back to our motel room, okay?" While it sounded like a question, the words that had fallen from Dean's mouth were more so statement than anything else, resulting in a silent nod of agreement from Claire. "You ready, Sam?"   
"Yeah." Sam nodded, zipping up his jacket.  
"Alright then." Dean sighed before the three of them stepped out to the white flurry awaiting them outside. Snow and ice was immediately flung against them as they stepped out of the building and begun to walk, bowing their heads as they tried to protect their faces from the sharp wind. While they walked through the snow blurred streets, Claire flinched deeper into Dean's side and embrace as the knife that was the wind that fought against them while he could simply pull her closer.   
Once they had reached the motel, the door flew open as the cold wind swept in from the outside after Sam had unlocked and opened it. Quickly they scurried inside and the moment Sam managed to force the door shut, Claire burst into tears, her knees giving out beneath her as her bottled up emotions took over. Her body barely had time to slump to the floor as Dean caught her and held her to his chest, anticipating her fall. One glance was all Sam needed from his brother to send him hurrying away across the small room, busying himself with whatever he could. For a minute Dean stood there, holding Claire tight to his chest as sobs wracked through her body which she was unable to hold up herself. Then, keeping a firm arm around her torso, he bent down to hook the other arm behind her knees, effortlessly picking her up and cradling her close to his chest, her head resting above his heart as he carried her to the couch. Sitting down himself with Claire in his lap, he kept an arm around her waist and put a hand on the back of her head as she buried her head into the crook of his neck, her tears wet and cold against his skin. His face hard, Dean simply sat there with his arms around Claire as she cried, her muffled sobs filling the suffocating silence.   
*  
What Claire was next aware of was the sound of cartoon violence and voices, with a light warm weight on her body. With a slight moan, she shifted her body slightly before cracking her eyes open slightly, the glow of the television screen bathing her in a dull blue light.   
"You okay?" Sam's quiet voice floated through the room.  
Turning her head, she found him sitting on the opposite end of the couch, staring at her with a wide eyed concern. Claire squeezed her eyes shut as she shook her head, as though to clear it. "Better than before, thank you." Then, she looked around the room worriedly and confused. "Where's Dean?" She asked.   
"He went to go get food." He shrugged returning his attention to the TV.   
"Okay..." Claire sighed before focusing her gaze on the bright TV screen. "So what are we watching?"   
"Rocky and Bullwinkle." Sam shrugged, his eyes glued to the characters on the screen.   
"Oh..." Claire said as she repositioned herself into a more comfortable position, rearranging the light blanket that had been tucked around her. It was silent in the room for a moment as the two watched the cartoon characters run across the screen, but eventually that silence was crushed. "Go figure they'd call the moose Bullwinkle." She snorted.   
This earned her a look from Sam. "Why?"  
Claire snorted again. “Bull.”  
“Might be stupid, but he and Rocky make a good team. They always stick together, no matter what.” Sam defended.  
“Like you and Dean?” The room immediately went quiet save for the TV at her words.   
“We don’t get into half the stuff they get themselves into.” He shrugged.  
“But together until the end.” Claire didn’t miss a beat, taking Sam back.  
“Yeah, I guess so.” He smiled.   
There was a click at the door as the lock came unhitched, making both Sam and Claire’s hand flinch, Sam’s towards a hidden gun, Claire’s to her concealed knife. However, when the door swung open to reveal Dean with three bags of take-out, the two relaxed back into the sofa. As he closed the door behind him, he glanced to the sofa and smiled when he saw Claire’s wide, gentle eyes watch him. “Hey, you’re awake.”   
“Hey Bullwinkle.” Claire said, a teasing but wicked smile on her face.  
Dean’s brow wrinkled in confusion at her greeting. “Bullwinkle?” he repeated in confusion.   
Claire simply pointed to the TV screen. “Rocky and Bullwinkle. They’re there for each other no matter what, like you and Sam.” She shrugged.  
One look at the two characters on the screen set Dean’s mouth in a frown. “Why do I have to be the moose?” he asked.  
“You’re the tallest.” Claire looked at him.  
“Not to mention the stupidest.” Sam muttered.  
“Bitch.” Dean threw at him.  
“Jerk.” Sam tossed back.  
“Whatever,” Dean shrugged out of his jacket before he set to unpacking the food. “I don’t like flying anyways, so I’m cool with not being the squirrel.” Once all the food was out, he grabbed it all and made his way to the couch, passing Sam his food before making his way to Claire who stood up from where she was tucked away by the arm of the couch. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I just got you the same thing I got for me.” He said sheepishly.  
Standing on her tip toes, she peeked at the food in his hands before smiling widely. “A man after my own heart.” She teased, paraphrasing his statement from last night, graciously taking food from him before stepping aside. “Here.” She indicated to where she had just been sitting.  
Dean rose an eyebrow. “You sure?”  
Claire smiled gently at him. “Yeah.” She nodded.   
Together they sat next to each other, the two Winchesters digging into their food as Claire simply sat back and watched the cartoon. She was unaware of what was happening around her until a nudge in her side brought her back to reality. “I thought you were hungry.” Dean said to her, referring to her untouched food on the coffee table in front of them.   
She stared at it for a long moment before frowning. “I thought so too…” she mumbled before shaking her head. “You go ahead.” she said, waving a hand to the food.  
“You sure?” Dean asked slowly, worry written clean across his face.  
“Yeah, go.” She told him. Their eyes connected as they watched each other, Dean watching her as he reached for the food inch by inch before Claire rolled her eyes. “Go ahead, Dean. Just go.”  
Taking it, he quickly ate it before leaning back himself to watch the show. As soon as he leaned back there was a warm weight on his side. Looking down he saw Claire warily lean against his arm, her eyes fixed on the screen but caution evident in her deliberate actions. At this Dean took his arm out from behind her, making her freeze before he put that arm around her shoulders and gently pulled her back into his chest. Almost immediately she relaxed back into him, her head resting comfortably landing on his chest. There was a slight scuffling noise and bounce on the sofa as Sam shuffled over to sit closer to the two.  
And for a while, the world was perfect as it stood still in that single moment.  
*  
Early the next morning, long after Claire had left for home and as Dean and Sam got ready for school, their Dad opened the garbage to throw something out when he suddenly spoke. “Three burgers, Dean?” he asked, looking to his eldest son once he spotted the wrappers in the trash.  
Dean froze for a moment, meeting Sam's wide eyes before turning to look at him expressionless. "We were hungry." He shrugged.   
John looked between his two sons before shaking his head and letting the subject drop. Sam and Dean's eyes met, both letting out silent sighs of relief at dodging the bullet.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

With the utmost care, Sam and Dean had Claire over every evening for the rest of the week, making sure they were in the clear so their father wouldn't find out. Despite what John had ordered, the two brothers were happy to have her company, and likewise for her. For Sam, while he was happy for reasons different to Dean and Claire, he was happy nonetheless. Every night was filled with sitting on the sofa, watching whatever they like on TV, the boys eating while Claire was pressed close to Dean's side, or chasing each other with disposable cameras she would bring with her, laughing at each other’s embarrassment or at the poses that were struck. So, for a while, the Winchesters embraced the almost normalcy that had been absent for most of their lives.   
That Friday found the three walking away from the school, eager for the start of the weekend, Dean and Claire hand in hand while Claire had her arm casually slung around Sam's shoulders. "So, what should we do tonight?" Dean asked, smiling down at her as he squeezed her hand.   
A troubled look flashed across Claire's face before she bit her lip and looked down at the frozen ground as they walked. "Would you mind if I came over later?" She finally asked, looking up shyly at him.   
The look that had taken its place on Claire's face was copied onto Dean's as his grin pulled down into a frown. "Why?" He asked. "What's wrong?"  
“I haven’t been feeling well lately, I think I just need to take a nap.” Claire shrugged, her brow knitting itself together as she thought about the ball of light and the affects it had on her.  
“Lately?” Dean repeated worriedly.   
Not having told Dean or Sam about her encounter with the light, Claire stuck to the other half of the story. “Moooore like the past two and a half weeks.” She drew out, not exactly lying.  
Sam and Dean stopped in their track to look at each other in concern before looking at her directly. “Ever since the start of the new year?” Sam asked.  
“How do you feel now?” Dean said immediately after.  
Claire’s frown grew with each question thrown at her. “Hollow.” She finally said, looking down at the snow covered ground. Although even then that single word did not seem to do how she felt justice.   
“Well you never did eat today.” Sam pointed out.  
“I don’t mean hollow like I’m hungry,” Claire shook her head, fat snowflakes that had landed in her curls flying outward. “Hollow like I’m… incomplete.”   
“How can you feel incomplete?” Dean asked in confusion, feeling hurt.  
Claire shrugged. “Search me. I don’t know why I would either; I’ve got a normal-ish life, I’m doing well in school, I have the best friends that I could ever hope for…” She smiled shyly at them, earning smiles back. “What else is missing?”  
“Your parents?” Dean said gently, watching her expression.  
At this Claire blinked. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve spent most of my life either with or without them, so...”  
Dean chuckled. “Know the feeling.” Looking away for a moment, he sighed before stepping towards Claire and gathering her in a hug. “Just hurry up and come on over, okay?” He told her, resting his cheek on top of her damp head.   
“Mmhhmm.” She hummed, nodding her head against Dean’s chest.   
Breaking away, the pair looked at each other for a long moment until Sam coughed, making them turn their heads to look at him. Dean’s eyes narrowed at his brother while Claire’s cheeks reddened, a small smile on her lips. “Try and eat something, Claire.” Sam told her, hiking his bag higher on his shoulder.   
Folding her hands together, she nodded at him. "Will do, Rocky." She teased.  
This made Sam laugh. "If we have nicknames, then we have to give you one." He jokingly threatened her.   
"Not in a million years." Claire shook her head grinning.   
"Cummon, Sammy." Dean mocked punched his brother's shoulder. "She's got one already."  
"Don't care." Sam laughed as he pushed Dean away.   
"Go ahead. Try me, Sammy." Claire crossed her arms, stick in her tongue out at him.   
Sam mocked her pose. "Fine."   
"Alright, alright." Dean raised his hands, putting a hand on each of their shoulders. "Go home, Claire. Rest then hurry back. Hurry back..." The rest of the sentence stuck in his throat, his mouth going dry as he realized what he was about to say. Of course, he meant what he thought, but would he be able to say it out loud? Would it seem selfish?  
Cocking her head to the side, Claire studied him with wide eyes before jumping on him in a hug, burying her face in the crook of his neck. Dean stumbled back with an oomph then quickly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her so close to him that he lifted her off the ground slightly. In their tight embrace, Claire breathed a sigh of comfort. "Hurry back to you." She finished the thought; her soft lips and warm breath grazing his neck, making him relax in a shiver at her words and hold her even tighter.   
"Yeah." Dean sighed in relief before gently placing her back on her feet. "Hurry back to me." He said as he held her at arm’s length, his hands tightening on her slender shoulders.   
"If you guys kiss, I will throw up." Sam piped up from down the road.   
Dean and Claire turned to look at him, Dean throwing an arm around her shoulders to pull her into his side, pressing a kiss to the top of her head while watching his brother, a smirk pulling at his mouth as he did so. At this Sam made fake gagging noises while Claire blushed a bright crimson. "You hurry back to me, alright?" Dean mumbled into the top of her head.   
"Mmmhhhmmm." Claire hummed, her eyes closed before she unwillingly pulled away. "See you soon. 8:30." She promised before hurrying away, her shoulders hunched against the cold.   
Standing frozen in place, Dean watched Claire before she disappeared from sight, then joining his brother and making their way to their motel. “That was cute.” Was all Sam commented with cheeky gleam in his eyes.  
Dean glared mockingly at him before giving him a shove. “Shut up, bitch.”  
“Jerk.” Sam said before they locked gazes and smiled at each other.  
“Cummon, I’m freezing my ass off out here." Dean said as another gust of the frigid wind blew through them.  
"Don't worry," Sam said reassuringly as they began to walk along the snow blurred street. "She'll be fine."  
"Yeah," Dean said lowly, his words going unheard in the howling wind. "I hope so."  
*  
Rushing up the stairs, she saw her parents lying still and pale on the ground, covered in their own deep scarlet blood. Immediately she screamed in terror. It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen them cover in blood before, but it was the fact that they were actually dead there on the kitchen floor, in the house they were supposed to be safe in. Turning to the entrance of the kitchen, she saw a masked figure raise a gun at her. Claire managed to duck and scurry to the other side of the table as her attacker started to fire at her. Jumping up quickly, she managed to grab one of the silver knives off of the table and fling the knife across the kitchen. There was a bang a moment before her blade found its home imbedded in the chest of the masked man, and instantly Claire felt warm, her chest hurting and feeling heavy. As the now dead assailant fell to the floor, she slowly looked down to her warm aching chest, and as a warm glow lit up the room, Claire saw the bloodied bullet hole in her chest, leading directly to her heart before a gasp left her lips and she fell to the floor, the light blinding her to the world around her.  
*  
The world came to her in a swirl of colors as Claire snapped up into a sitting position in her hotel bed, her eyes wide as she struggled for breath. Her heart beat wildly as she sat there drenched in sweat, remembering the vivid dream that had shaken her to the core. Sure, she had in reality had close calls before, and that was almost a part of the job, but to go on out because of a house robber? What would bring on that sort of dream, and one so vivid it seemed real?   
Leaning forward so that she could rest her elbows on her knees, Claire sighed as she buried her face in her hands, attempting to control her breathing before running a hand through her long tangled locks. Tiredly, she turned her head to squint at the alarm clock at her bedside. At sight of the time she gave a yelp of surprise then lunged for the phone, quickly inputting the number that was written next to the holder. As the tone indicated the phone ringing, Claire pressed the receiver to her cheek with bated breath, awaiting the sound of the only voice she wanted to hear.   
"Hello?"  
*  
For the past two hours Sam had sat watching his brother pace the room, do meaningless tasks, and even do his homework as they waited for Claire to show up. However, she was still a no show, which made Dean start to panic. "Dean, don't worry." Sam told him.   
"It's 11:30, Sammy." Dean said as he paced, gesturing to clock in the room. "She should have been here hours ago!"  
Sam sighed. "She wasn't feeling good, she probably fell asleep."   
Whirling around, Dean was about to yell at his brother when the phone began to trill. At this they snapped their gaze to the ringing object, they stood there frozen for a moment before Dean lunged forward, snatching the phone from the receiver before speaking breathlessly into it. "Hello?"  
"Dean?" A female voice called over the line.  
"Clairey!" He exclaimed.  
"I'm sorry! I fell asleep for much longer than I anticipated!" Claire was quick to apologise.   
Dean shook his head with a soft smile on his lips, his worry instantly melting away. "Don't worry about it. Are you okay now?"  
There was a pause before Claire spoke. "Not really, you still want me to come over?"  
Biting back a hyped of course, Dean nodded. "Yeah, sure."  
"Alright, I'll see you soon." She promised.  
"Okay, bye."  
"Bye." There was a click before the line then went dead.   
Immediately after that Dean set back to pacing the room.  
*  
In less than ten minutes Claire flat out ran to the motel the Winchester’s were staying at despite wearing a dress. The moment she crossed the lawn of the motel she slowed to a walk, her eyes fixed on the room door on the second floor of the building. She saw Sam peeking out from behind the curtains, making her smile and wave. He waved back with a big smile on his face before turning away from the window. Claire giggled at this, and was twenty feet from the steps to the second level when a bright light suddenly landed on her like being in a spotlight. Eyes squinted, her hazel eyes were drawn to the mysterious ball of light floating at the edge of the building.   
"It's you..." She whispered, becoming transfixed on the orb.   
Letting out a sad yet mysterious hum, it slowly started floating backwards, around the corner and away from Claire. Then, as though in a trance similar to Aurora and the spinning wheel in Sleeping Beauty, she began to follow it.   
*  
As his brother paced the room behind him, Sam continued to watch guard, peering out the window until Claire came running into view. Once her feet touched the grass she started walking rather than running, she locked her gaze on the room door before noticing Sam. She smiled and waved to him, to which he returned the gesture then turned to look at Dean.   
"She's here." He told him.   
"Finally." Dean sighed in relief, crossing the floor to look out the window with his brother. However, the sight laid out before him made his stomach drop. There in the parking lot stood Claire bathed in a bright warm glow, her eyes wide and unfocused. "What the hell?" He mumbled, watching Claire worriedly before she began to move towards the light, as though she were commanded to. Then, like a switch had been flicked on in his head, Dean put two and two together. The light was what his dad was hunting, and it had Claire under its spell. People had already gotten hurt because of this thing.   
"Aww crap." He swore before grabbing a gun and swinging his jacket on. Running for the door, Dean ripped it open before stopping and looking back to Sam. "Keep the door locked, grab a gun, and keep an eye out for that thing." He told his brother who nodded. "Don't open that door for no one unless it’s me and Claire, or Dad. You got it?"  
Sam nodded again in worry, getting up to get a shot gun. "Got it." He said, loading it.   
"Good." Dean nodded at Sam before slamming the door shut behind him and hurrying down the steps and after Claire.   
*  
Slowly walking around the building, Claire continued to follow the floating orb. In most situations, her instincts would be screaming at her to defend herself; that things would not end well if she did not take control of the situation. However, her instincts were quiet; to the contrary they were urging her forward to follow the mysterious yet familiar orb. It was at the edge of the frozen lake that lay behind the motel did Claire paused, the spell over her broken, though her curiosity remained. As the light continued to make its way across the ice, she watched after it longingly. Then, with an unsure look at the thick ice before her, took a cautious step on to it, breathing a sigh of relief when it did not give out beneath her.   
Rounding the corner of the building, Dean ran on to the grass and to the edge of the ice, watching Claire as she took gentle steps towards the light that had stopped to hover at the center of the lake. Further and further she walked out on the lake, making Dean even more so nervous with each step Claire took. Yearning to follow her, he moved to take a step onto the ice but was met by an invisible boundary, bouncing him back a couple of steps and fall to the ground. At this Dean began to truly panic as he scrambled up off the ground and ran to the icy edge, his eyes fixed on Claire.  
At the center of the lake, she stopped inches away from the orb, the light reflecting in her curious eyes. The air around her was warm, the thing heating the air around it, also melting the ice beneath itself and the girl before it. As the ice creaked beneath them, Claire looked around worriedly. After a moment of thought though, she raised her hand to reach for the light. However, as it had been as the first time, her chest began to hurt, increasingly so as she continued to reach for the orb. Biting back a scream, she continued to reach forward. Finally, when her fingertips met the warmth of the orb as she finally touched it, she gasped as memories came flooding back to her in a flash of light.  
*  
"Claire, go look at the basement." Her father called up to her. "Bobby promised it would serve our needs well."   
"I doubt Bobby said that exactly." Claire mumbled as she ran down the stairs to the main floor, her white dress fluttering around her knees.   
"What do you think of your room?" Her mother smiled gently at her as she entered the kitchen, trying to diffuse any oncoming tension.   
Throwing her arms around her mother, Claire hugged her tightly with a big smile. Her mother immediately hugged her back. "I love it!" She whispered in her ear before pulling back to look at her. "Finally a room of my own!" Then unexpectedly, there was a clang at the table, making both mother and daughter whip their heads around to look at the source of noise. There stood her father with a hockey bag in hand, taking out various silver knives and placing them on the table. “Dad, I thought we were finished with all of this.” Claire gestured to the weapons piled on their new dinner table sadly.   
Mr. Shanahan looked up at his daughter disapprovingly over the rims of his glasses. “It’s only on hold while you go to school.” He told her, feeling a twinge of guilt at the look of sadness on Claire’s face from what he told her. Walking over to her, he opened his arms to offer a hug, one his daughter threw herself into. “Look, I’m sorry hon, but we’re hunters. We can’t afford this kind of lifestyle for too long, we have a job to do.”   
“Yeah, but this,” Claire broke away, gesturing to their surroundings. “This is safe.”  
“I’m sorry,” Her father said, frowning before returning to the weapons on the table. “But that’s how things work. We’re hunters, and hunters are never safe.” He murmured more or less to himself. “No go check out that basement.” Mr. Shanahan said, this time to his daughter.  
Claire turned to look at mother desperately, but it was no use as Mrs. Shanahan regarded her with regret and pity. “Go on, sweetheart.” She encouraged her, moving towards the empty counter and away from the weapon strewn table.   
Shoulders slumped, Claire sighed before turning around the door leading to the basement below, quickly hurrying down the steps. The moment her feet hit the cement floor, she cooed in surprise at the feeling of the cold stone beneath her feet. She smiled though at the feeling, relishing in the fact that it was the floor of a house to call home, and not some strange place where a creature might be hiding. Looking around the unfinished basement, Claire’s mind quickly figured out places weaponry could be hid with the right construction of hidey holes and cabinets. Moving forward in the cool and open room, she sighed as she trailed her hand across the beams and pipes that were exposed. As much as she loved her parents, Claire craved a normal life. All her life she had been hunting, hell from the moment she could walk the training began. No rest for those hunting the wicked.   
Walking around to bend over to look at the space under the stairs, Claire scoffed. “Saving people, hunting things, the family business.” She sang beneath her breath, rolling her eyes. It was all she had ever known, and according to her parents, albeit a little unwillingly, all she would ever know. Hunting was in the blood. That would never change. The instincts, the abilities, the job would never change, she knew that, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t willing to try.  
Speaking of instincts, a loud bang and thump directly above her head made her jump. She held her breath as another bang followed, making Claire run silently to and up the stairs in a flurry of flying skirts. She was no stranger to gunfire, but those shots sounded nothing like anything found in the Shanahan arsenal. That she knew for sure. So when her feet touched the warm wood of the first floor, the sight of her dead parents on the floor of the home that was supposed to be safe, Claire let out a blood curdling scream. A movement of a black shape made her whirl around in time to see a tall figure wearing a ski mask swing a rifle in her direction, her training kicked in as she dove out of the way and behind the table as the man attempted to shoot her. Each shot missed until it was silent. From her hiding spot behind the table, Claire breathed in deeply, readying herself as she heard her assailant reload his gun. Then, jumping up, she grabbed her silver knife from where it sat on the table and with a primed and effortless skill, threw it across the kitchen and into the man’s chest; just as he fired the fatal shot.   
Behind her, bloody drywall flew up as the man’s body dropped to the floor in the doorway, Claire gasping for air as a pain filled her chest. Slowly looking down at her chest in shock, she saw the bullet hole into her chest ooze blood down her ivory skin and staining her white dress. With trembling hands, she went to cover the hole as a blinding light filled the kitchen, a calming wind filling her ears as she too slumped to the ground, a single tear trailing down her cheek as her blood mingling with that of her parents.  
*  
Claire stumbled back, frozen in shock as a wave of energy pulsed from her as she absorbed the ball of light. In that instant, she felt whole again, but unnaturally warm. Slowly, she looked down to see a bloody bullet hole in her dress, leading straight through to her heart, blood seeping through the lace and down her body. Below her, the ice creaked once again.   
From the shore, Dean watched worriedly, stumbling back as the pulse fanned out across the lake and shore. After a painstaking moment, he craned his neck to try and see Claire's expression. It was no use however as she had her back to him. "Clairey?" He called loudly, his concern reverberating across the lake to her.   
At the sound of his voice, Claire snapped out of her trance, feeling somewhat tired as she slowly turned to face him. "Dean?" She said in confusion taking a step forward. All of a sudden the ice gave a loud groan in protest before finally giving out underneath her weight.   
"Claire!" Dean screamed as Claire gave a scream of terror of her own as the ice cracked beneath her, slipping into the cold dark water and out of sight.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The moment Claire slipped under, Dean stripped off his leather jacket, ditched his gun and ran across the ice, adrenaline driving him forward towards the still black hole in the center of the lake. Dropping to his knees at the edge of the hole, he desperately tried to see through the water, however, seeing nothing. "CLAIRE!!" Dean screamed again in panic. A faint thump beneath him however caught his attention in the chilling silence. Scrambling to the side, he wiped the snow aside to see a faint pale figure sink beneath the ice. Not a moment was spared as Dean quickly slid into the frigid water.   
Taking a large gulp of air, he dove down into the darkness below. The temperature of the water almost shocked him into breathing in, but he managed to retain the gasp and continue to hold his breath. Turning himself around, Dean saw Claire's ghostly figure slowly float to the bottom of the lake. Panic began to rise in his chest when he saw her beautiful eyes shut, making him quickly swim his way over to her. Her form swayed as the water around her shifted, her dark hair billowing out around her like a halo. Stopping in front of her, Dean kept his eyes trained on her face as he gently wrapped an arm around her waist before turning back and making his way back to the hole in the ice.  
With a splash and a large gasp, Dean broke through the water, struggling to keep Claire's lolling head above the frigid drink. Hooking his arms underneath her arms, he pushed her out of the water and onto the ice, pushing him further down in the black ink. Thankfully, the ice did not break beneath her dead weight as she was pushed on to it, making Dean sigh with relief. Quickly he scrambled up onto the ice beside her, shivering from the cold that increased on his shoulders. Stumbling to his feet, he regained his balance and picked Claire up, holding her tenderly to his chest as he carefully but hurriedly raced across to the shore.   
Slipping on the occasion, Dean managed to stay on his feet, not break through the ice, and make it to the shore. Gently laying her on the grass near his discarded possessions, his fingers seeked out the pulse on her neck. His breathing however became ragged as he began to panic as he found no pulse. As quick and careful as he could, Dean tilted Claire’s head back and opening her mouth, bent down to see if he could hear or feel any signs of breathing. Still nothing.  
It was a good thing the last school he had gone to had made him take CPR training in gym class because he knew what to do as he immediately folded his hands together and started on compressions. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. He gritted out the numbers in his head as he counted each time he pressed down hard on her chest. After 30 compressions, he tilted her head back again, opened her mouth, and plugging her nose, covered her mouth his. Under any other circumstance, Dean would be shy, yet absolutely thrilled to have his lips pressed against Claire’s, but her soft lips were pale and cold, lifeless; an almost blue hue to them. Trying to keep his breathing normal, he breathed two large breaths of warm air into her frigid lungs. Seeing her chest rise and fall slightly from the corner of his eye gave Dean hope. Immediately he set to work again, pumping Claire’s chest 30 times, warming her lips with his own with two breaths of air, and repeated again.   
As the old saying “third time’s a charm” goes, it proved to be correct after the third time as Dean filled Claire’s lungs with air there was a gurgle as she began to cough, water spilling from her mouth and down her face, her body wracking with each cough. Dean sighed with relief, as he smiled slightly, smoothing away wet strands of Claire’s hair from her face. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, Clairey. I got you.” He crooned softly, slipping an arm beneath her shoulders to prop her up slightly. “I got you.”  
“Mmmhhhhhhh…” Claire moaned between coughs. Dean kept repeating his word as he cradled her to his chest. After a while, her coughing subsided, her lungs free of the invading water. Her cold form started to relax in Dean’s arms, her head falling back so that she could look through squinted eyes at him. “Dean?” She mumbled, her voice hoarse.  
He smiled down at her, gripping her tighter in response. “Hey.” He whispered.  
“Hey.” Claire managed a weak smile in return.  
Dean’s smile widened before his lower lip began to tremble, and finally, the tears began to flow. “Oh god.” He began to cry, resting his forehead on top of her damp head. “I thought I lost you.”  
With the little strength she had left, Claire brought a trembling hand up to rest along Dean’s cheek. “Hey,” She whispered, catching his attention. “I’m ‘ere.” He brought a hand up to cover hers, making her smile slightly before she winced and her arm slackened, only kept up by Dean holding her hand, before she relaxed completely into his arms.  
“Claire?” Dean looked down at her still face in worry. “Clairey!?!” All he earned was another moan in response. “Cummon, Clairey. Stay with me.”  
“Mmmmhhhhh, I’m cold.” She mumbled.   
“Right.” He leaned over her to grab his jacket he had left discarded on the ground earlier and tucked his gun in the back of his pants, his eyes never leaving her face. As gently as he could, Dean wrapped Claire into his jacket before picking her up bridal style and started hurrying back to the hotel and fast as he could. "Now just stay with me, Clairey. Okay?" He glanced down at her face briefly. "Focus on my voice; you gotta stay with me, Clairey."   
Another moan in response. This time however, quieter than before.   
This made Dean walk even faster, humming to keep himself calm and to give her something to focus on as he hurried along. In his arms, Claire snuggled deeper into his jacket and his chest.  
*  
In the motel room, Sam waited patiently, though worriedly as time ticked on with no sign of Claire or Dean. After ten minutes of Sam being left alone to his thoughts, he began to get increasingly worried. His father had said that the light hadn't directly hurt anyone, and that it had only captured attention. It didn't however settle the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach as he listened for anything out of the abnormal. So when a banging on the door suddenly broke the silence, Sam gripped his weapon tighter, training it on the door.   
"Sam!" Dean's voice shouted over the banging. "Sam, open the door!"  
Jumping up, Sam ran for the door, his gun still in hand as he stood on his tiptoes to peek out the peephole. Through the narrow fisheye view he saw a dripping wet Dean holding an equally wet and unconscious Claire in his arms. Unlocking the door, Sam threw it open and moved out of the way as Dean hurried into the room, leaving a trail of water behind him.   
"Dean! What happened?" Sam asked, shutting the door and following his brother into the bathroom.   
"That light Dad's been hunting, it had her in some sort of trance. Got her out in the middle of the frozen lake before she fell in and got trapped under the ice." Dean explained as he lowered Claire gently onto the tiled floor.  
"But you got her out?"   
He shook his head. "Yeah, but she was knocked out. Had to do mouth to mouth just to get her conscious and breathing again."   
In any other situation, Sam would have teased Dean about getting an excuse to kiss a girl, but this was Claire. Their best friend. Now wasn't the time to be making jokes when her life was on the line. "You have to get her warm." He told his brother.   
"I know." Dean grabbed a towel off the rack. "Sammy, bring me my bag, we need to get her out of this." He gestured to the bloodstained dress.   
Sam's eyes bulged slightly as he zeroed in on the blood. "What happened there?"  
"I don't know! Now cummon!" Dean shouted in a panic at him, holding Claire close.   
"Right." Sam muttered as he scrambled into the main room and grabbed Dean's bag.   
In the bathroom, Dean caressed Claire's face and stroked her hair, trying to coax her from her slumber. "Cummon, Clairey." He said lowly, tracing her face with his fingers. "Don't do this to me."  
"Here." Sam said as he brought the duffle bag in before crouching down to study Claire's all too peaceful expression.  
"Thanks." Dean said, sifting through the clothing in the bag.  
"Are you going to change her?" Sam finally asked.  
Sighing, Dean looked at him tiredly and worriedly. "I'm going to have to." He said uncomfortably. "She won't wake up."  
Nodding slowly, Sam kept his mouth shut before getting up off the ground. "I'll keep watch." He said, leaving the small bathroom.   
"Hey," Dean called before Sam could close the bathroom door. "Thanks, Sammy."   
"No problem." Sam smiled slightly before shutting the door behind him.   
He smiled to himself a little at the door for a moment before returning his attention to the drenched young woman in his lap. "Uhhhh..." He said unsure, his hands flying uselessly above Claire. ”Err... Claire?" Dean said, stroking her face. After calling her name a couple times, Claire finally began to respond, her eyelids fluttering as she moaned. "That's it, Clairey. Come back to me." He encouraged her.   
"Dean..." Claire mumbled as her body began to once again convulse. "I'm cold."   
"I know, I know." He soothed, continuing to caress her cheek as he pressed his forehead against hers. "We have to get you dried off. You're soaking wet."  
Claire fingered the wet hem of Dean's shirt collar. "So are you." She said hoarsely.   
"Don't worry about me." He smiled comfortingly.   
Squeezing her eyes shut, she weakly shook her head. "I always will."   
Laughing lowly, Dean propped her up so she was sitting up against his chest. "That's my girl." He said, pressing a kiss to her damp and dark hair. "Now cummon, I need you to get out of this dress."  
"Kinky." Claire rolled her eyes, before trying to get up. As she struggled to get up, Dean got up as well, holding onto her as he helped her to try and stand. It was no use though as her knees gave out beneath her, sending her crashing towards the ground.   
Dean however managed to catch her before she could hit the floor, holding her close to his chest as he looked down worriedly. "Whoah!" He said, holding up her weight.   
"Sorry." Claire mumbled, pressing her cheek against his chest.   
"It's fine, Clairey. But we gotta get you dry." He said worriedly as lowered her gently back to rest on his lap on the floor.   
At his words, Claire turned her back to him and raised her arms over her head, confusing Dean. After a still and silent moment, she tilted her head back and turned to look at him. "Help." She said in a small, timid voice.   
"What?" Dean was taken aback by her request, his cheeks immediately going red.   
"Help." She repeated, her voice a little more firm this time.   
Now, Dean may consider himself a ladies man, and would be more than happy to jump at this sort of chance with anyone else, but when he had true, legitimate feelings for Claire... All of a sudden it made him feel shy. "You sure?" He stuttered.  
After a slow nod, Dean helped pull her vest off which landed on the tiles with a thud. Then with little strength, Claire kicked her boots off before once again holding her arms above her head. With shaky hands, Dean reached for the hem of her soaked and torn dress and pulled it up and over her head. When the warm hotel air made contact with her almost bare skin, save for her bra, Claire began to once again shiver violently, her teeth chattering as goose bumps erupted across her pale complexion. Seeing this, Dean quickly ran a towel over her torso and arms, trying to dry her off before he lunged for his duffle bag, grabbing a large white T-shirt and slipping it over her head, not noticing the shy shiver that trembled down her spine as he dried her off. Before slipping her arms through the shirt, there was a clicking noise before Claire slipped her wet bra out from under the shirt, making Dean's eyes widen as he swallowed nervously, and finally fully putting on the borrowed shirt.   
“Eyes front, soldier.” Claire murmured as she turned to look at him, her cheeks flushing red either from being cold or from embarrassment, Dean didn’t know.  
“What?” He stuttered, going red himself.   
Managing a weak smile at him, she then looked at his bag pointedly. “Do you have any… umm…” She asked quietly. When Dean didn’t get her question and looked at her questioningly, Claire gestured to her soaked tights. Almost immediately the gears clicked in Dean's mind, understanding what she was asking for.   
"Oh, uhhh..." Leaning over, Dean shifted through his bag before selecting a pair of sweatpants and handing them down to her.   
She took and held them silently for a moment before looking at him again wide eyed. "I umm... Also need..." Claire gripped the fabric tighter, her already pale knuckles going even whiter.   
It hit Dean again, quicker than it did the first time. His green eyes widened even more as he stopped breathing for a moment. "Uhhh... Hang on." He told her, barely opening the door to slip out.  
Sam looked up at his brother in concern as he left the bathroom. "Everything okay?" He asked quietly.   
"Give me your underwear, man." Dean whispered, his eyes still wide.   
"What? Why?" Sam said loudly in shock.   
"Shhhh!!!" Dean hushed him, looking between him and the bathroom. "She needs something dry!"  
"Then give her a pair of yours!" Sam hissed.   
"Sam!" Dean hissed back.   
Staring at his brother for a moment through narrowed eyes, Sam then sighed in defeat and got off the couch to grab a pair of white briefs from his bag, making Dean's face a successful target as he threw them at him.   
"Bitch." Dean muttered as he took the underwear off of his face.   
"Jerk." Came Sam's response as he flopped back onto the couch, returning his attention to the TV.   
Turning back to the bathroom, Dean took a deep breath before hesitantly knocking on the bathroom door. "Hey, Claire?"   
"Uh huh?" Came a response so quiet Dean almost missed it.  
“I got you some, uhh… I won’t come in or anything, but I’ll throw them in and wait for you out here.” He told her through the door. “That okay?”  
“Yeah.” Claire said.   
Dean hesitated. “Right.” He whispered before opening the door slightly, tossed the underwear in and snapped the door back shut. Across the room, Sam looked at Dean with a shit eating grin plastered across his face at his brother’s unnatural discomfort. Shooting him a look in return, Dean remained faithfully on guard by the bathroom door until a few minutes later his name was faintly called.  
“Dean…” Claire called.  
“You okay in there?” His head snapped around to look at the doorknob, dying to be close to her again.  
“Yeah, you can come in now.” She reassured him.  
No sooner were the words out of her mouth, Dean ripped the door open and threw himself into the small bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.  
“Easy tiger.” Claire smiled at him, looking rather exhausted as she sat on the floor with her back against the cabinet under the sink, almost swallowed by Dean’s baggy clothes that covered her slim figure. Her smile softened a little more when Dean smiled back at her before she removed her hands from her lap. “Help.” She asked again in a childlike voice, pointing to the undone drawstrings on her borrowed pants with stiff and frozen hands.   
Rolling his eyes with a smile, Dean dropped to his knees and bent down to tie her pants snug and tight. When he was finished, he pulled his hands back slightly to admire his handiwork. Then, ever so slowly, he brought his hands up and around to rest on Claire’s hips. The moment his hands found their home, her frame immediately relaxed under his touch, her eyes shutting content and tiredly. Looking up, he smiled at her, brushing her long hair over her shoulder. “Cummon, let’s get you rested.” He said, moving to pick her up.   
Claire opened her eyes as best as she could to give him a stern look and put a hand on his shoulder. “No.” She said. “You need to dry off, too.”  
“Clairey, don’t worry about me.” Dean shook his head.  
Her frown increased. “No.” She said stubbornly, reaching for the towel beside her.   
Reluctantly, Dean sat on the floor close to her, sitting still as she began to gently rub the towel through his short hair, shyly taking his shirt off for her when she tugged at the hem of his damp shirt. Her eyes widened slightly as he did so, however it wasn’t at the sight of the few scars marring his physique, her cheeks instead reddening at the sight of his toned body. Without a single word, without a single question about his scars, Claire ran the towel over Dean’s skin as though she were used to this type of process, making it his turn to shiver this time. When she reached his left shoulder though, her movements began to slow down before her hand fell as she herself slipped back into unconsciousness.  
Chuckling to himself, as he had been expecting this, Dean quickly finished drying his arms and chest before slipping on a dry shirt of his own and picking Claire up. Carrying her out of the bathroom, he brought her to the bed he had been sleeping in for the past couple of weeks where he laid her down. Tucking the sheets and blankets tight around her, he bent down to kiss her forehead then went back into the washroom to finish drying himself off.   
Once he was completely changed, he started hanging their wet articles of clothing off of the side of the tub. When he got to Claire’s dress however, he stopped, for it was torn and bloodied in the chest, which was funny because although Dean hadn’t been staring, much, Claire didn’t have any chest wounds that would match the damage to her dress. Sighing to himself, he deposited the dress in the trash, wiped up the water on the floor, and went back into the main hotel room. Making his way to Claire, he saw that she was still violently shivering. Hurrying to her side, he spread his hand across her forehead, feeling that she was still ice cold.  
“You didn’t think she would warm up on her own, did you?” Sam’s voice piped up from behind him.   
Keeping his hand on Claire, Dean turned to look Sam. “What do I do?” He asked in desperation.  
“Body heat is what she needs.” Sam shrugged.  
“What? I’m supposed to crawl into bed with her?” Dean said incredulously.  
“Wouldn’t be the first time you two have slept together.”  
“Come on, man.” He said in protest. “That was on a couch in front of a TV! Besides, I took a dunk in that lake, too.”  
“Yeah, but you got adrenaline pumping through you, increasing your temperature.” Sam shrugged. “It’s the only way you can keep her from getting sick.” He said before going into the washroom to get ready for bed, leaving his brother to his own devices.  
Looking down at Claire with concern, he didn’t move for a moment before walking to the other side of the bed and crawling under the covers with her, gently gathering and holding her to her chest. At the feeling of warmth, Claire unconsciously snuggled deeper into Dean’s embrace, making him smile blissfully to himself again. Getting comfortable, Dean began humming again before not too long, he too fell asleep.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Parking his car around the corner from his destination, John started walking to the dark house. His sharp eyes surveyed the building, not noticing anything out of the ordinary; car was in the driveway, lights were out of the night. He had finally decided to pay these English hunters a visit, having gotten the address from Bobby, and to try and figure out why they were sitting on their assess when there was something obviously wrong basically in their own backyard. So, here he was. Bobby had also confirmed over the phone that the Claire girl his boys had seemed so fond of, the same one he had met in the street one night, was indeed the hunter's only daughter.   
Well then, this would make for an interesting conversation.  
Climbing up the steps to the porch, he paused at the front door. Looking at the calm scene around him made John feel as though he were surrounded by a ghost of the past. Once long ago normality had been his, and security was for his sons, much like what the Shanahan’s had now. That however had been in the past, and in his heart he knew that even if he got revenge for Mary's death, he couldn't go back to normalcy; not after all he had learned was out there in the world. Not like the Shanahan's had, even if Bobby had said it was so the girl could finish her schooling. So, with a sigh John knocked on the front door then took a step back. After a minute with no response, he tried knocking on the door once again. However, just like before, he got no response.  
"Mr. Shanahan? Mrs. Shanahan?" John called out impatiently, shuffling his weight as he stood there. "Name's John Winchester. I'm a friend of Bobby Singer's. I wanna talk to you." Concentrating as hard as he could, he tried listening for any movement on the other side of the door, but heard nothing. "Claire? You home? It's Dean's father." John tried a new approach.   
Still not a sound.   
Pulling his gun from the back of his jeans, John gently tested the doorknob, which to his surprise opened the unlocked door. That wasn't good. Slowly inching his way into the dark house with his gun at the ready, for as soon as he was inside the overwhelming putrid and metallic stink filled his senses, almost making him retch in response. Covering his nose with his sleeve and holding his gun level in from of him, the bad feeling that had been growing in his stomach proved to be correct when he saw the masked corpse lying in the entrance of the kitchen, a stab wound deep in its chest. Shaking his head as he stepped over the body and the gun that lay discarded on the floor, John wandered further into the kitchen and found two withered and bloodied corpses of who he could only guess were Mr. and Mrs. Shanahan, lying on the bloodstained hardwood floor. Slowly surveying the dark and bloodied scene, his gaze landed on the large bloodstain on the floor in the far corner of the room; the walls splattered with blood and the bullet hole decorated drywall. The peculiar thing was that there was no body there and dried footsteps leading away from the spatter, almost as though the dead had simply gotten up and walked away from the crime scene.   
Counting the bodies once more, John realized the final member of the Shanahan family was missing. Quickly he rushed through the rest of the house, looking for the final body and coming across nothing. With a feeling of dread and fright as he came to realization, he rushed out of the house, leaving it as he found it, Dean and Sam’s safety the number one priority on his mind.   
*  
Slowly emerging from her foggy mind, Claire sighed contentedly as she took in the warmth that was wrapped around her. Somewhere above her head there was a soft, calming, and familiar humming that soothed her, making her slowly open her eyes. It took her a moment to focus, but she was able to see she was in one of the beds in the Winchester's motel room. Sam sat on the sofa watching TV, while the one she seeked was not in her line of sight. Smiling slightly, Claire turned her head to her left to gaze up at Dean's peaceful face; his eyes closed as he held her against her chest and continued to hum.   
"What are you humming?" Claire asked quietly.   
At the sound of her voice, Dean opened his eyes to gaze down at her with a smile. “Ramble On, Led Zeppelin.” He answered. “It’s one of my favorite songs.”  
She nodded. “I like it. What’s your other favorite song?”  
“Travelling Riverside Blues.” It was silent between them before Dean spoke again. “How are you feeling?”  
Claire thought about it for a moment. “To be quite honest, a lot better than I have in a long time.”   
This made Dean’s brow wrinkle in confusion and worry as he frowned. “Really?”  
“Yeah…” Claire frowned too.   
“I mean, you took a dip in a freezing lake, you should feel like crap.” He argued.  
“You don’t have to tell me that.” She laughed without any humor. “And yet I feel almost perfect.”  
“Do you think it had anything to do with you touching that light?” Dean finally asked the question that had been weighing down on both of their minds.   
“Maybe.” Claire shrugged, the images she had been seared into her mind flashing by her eyes, leaving her feeling sick at the thought of that happening. “What do you think it was?”  
“I honestly don’t know.” Dean answered truthfully, thinking back on what little his father knew about the thing had shared with him on this latest hunt. Tucking her head back under his chin, he sighed as he felt her warm breath against his neck. “The main thing is that you’re safe.” He whispered.  
“I can’t think of anywhere else safer.” Claire murmured in response as she wiggled closer to him, worming her way deeper into his embrace, making a point of what she meant as he hugged her even tighter.  
Together they lay there, wrapped up in each other’s warmth and their individual thoughts as Claire began to once again drift off. However, the rumbling of an engine pulling into the motel parking lot captured the three teens attention. Sam and Dean looked at each other worriedly, recognizing the sound of the Impala, while Claire tiredly stirred in Dean’s arms.  
“What’s wrong?” She mumbled, looking at him worriedly, a sleepy haze filling her eyes.  
Looking down at her, Dean attempted a smile. “Don’t worry about it.” He reassured her before kissing her forehead and unwillingly let go of her as he got out of bed to cross the room and look out the window. Pulling the curtains back an inch, he saw his father park the car, get out and grabbing a gun, hurried up the stairs and to the room. Quickly Dean ran to unlock the door, just in time for John to burst into the room.   
“Sam! Dean!” He shouted as he ran in, his rifle tight in his hands.  
“Dad, what wrong?” Sam asked, getting off the couch while looking at his dad in confusion.  
“That girl-” John began to explain until his eyes landed on Claire’s small huddled form in Dean’s bed, her hazel eyes peeking out from under the blankets watching him curiously. Immediately he swung his gun up to point it at her, anger and rage filling his expression. “You!” He bellowed, making his son’s freak out and Claire slowly sit up.  
“Dad!” Sam shouted in shock.  
“What the hell, Dad!” Dean exclaimed, moving to stand in front of the gun, blocking a straight shot at Claire.  
“What is she doing here?” John demanded to know.  
Dean squared his shoulders. “She fell into the lake out back.” He explained. “Almost drowned before I saved her.”  
“Really? And what was she doing here in the first place?” John challenged him.  
“I have a right to go wherever I please.” Claire piped up, watching John as well as he was watching her as she slowly got out of bed to go and stand next to Dean, who fought back a smirk at her sass.  
Ignoring her, John spoke to his boys. “I thought I told you two to stay away from her.”  
“You what!?!” She exclaimed, turning to look at the two brothers in disbelief.   
“Why?” Dean asked his father, looking him straight in the eye while refusing to look at Claire.   
“I told you why.”   
“No. No you didn’t. You said not to get attached.”   
“Which you clearly did even though I told you not to!” John shouted, finally looking at Dean.  
“Well then why?” Dean shouted back. Looking between the two in concern, Claire moved to grab Dean’s hand. However as her fingertips grazed his, John moved his gun to be level with her chest, making his threat quite clear. Dean however ignored the warning and grabbed her hand, feeling calmer instantly.  
“You know nothing about her and you’ll never see her again after we leave, it doesn’t matter.” John said.  
“How would you know?” Dean rebutted quickly. “I know Claire very well.” He gripped her hand tighter.  
"She ever tell you her and her parents were hunters?" John's words shocked his sons, their jaws dropping before looking to Claire who in turn looked at the floor. Dean felt a flash of hurt and betrayal before he processed what his father had said; for in a way, Claire had told him her parents were hunters.   
We moved around a lot, much like you do.  
This isn't the first time my parents have done this. Just a part of the job.  
I've faced things far worse than them.  
Her words echoed through his head, making him feel confident as he squared his shoulders. "Yeah, she did." Dean said defiantly, not willing to back down for once. From the corner of his eye, he could see Claire's lips quirk slightly up in a smile, as though she were happy he had finally figured it out.   
John turned his glare on Dean. "I told you to stay away from her, Dean." He said again, clearly unhappy about the progress he was making with his son.  
"Why? Why did I have to stay away from her, Dad?" Dean replied, his voice rising to match John's in volume. "She makes me happy; she's even make’s Sam happy! Don't we deserve that after all the crap we've been through?"  
"This isn't you," His father shook with anger. "I didn't raise my son to be some love sick puppy." He quickly turned his glare and anger on Claire who in turn was glaring at him herself now. "What did you do to my sons?"  
"What do you mean were?" She retorted, her eyes narrowing, referring to his comment about her family. "We may have settled down, but we're still hunters."  
"Leave it alone, Dad." Dean stepped forward, tightening his hold on Claire's hand even further.   
"She's dead, Dean." John shouted as him, shocking all three teens.   
Immediately Claire froze, going several shades paler than her naturally light skin. Her normally bright hazel eyes darkened as they welled up with tears. "What?" She whispered in disbelief.   
John sighed in agitation. "I was told there were hunters in the area, and after not running into anyone on this job, I got the address from a friend to find out what was going on." He sighed, remaining on his guard. "When I got to the house the door was unlocked, and when I went in there were three bodies on the floor. Your parents in the kitchen, and a robber who had been stabbed was in the hall. My guess is that they've been there about three weeks."  
"New year’s." Dean mumbled in disbelief, remembering that Claire had said she's hadn't seen her parents since the beginning of the month.   
The entire time, she remained silent, which egged John to continue on. "In the corner of the kitchen, there was a pool of blood on its own. No body, no nothing. But the blood was smeared across the floor, as though whoever was shot got up and walked away." John calmed slightly, almost reliving his discovery in his mind. He let it sink in for a moment before speaking again. "There's nothing else that it could be."  
At his words, Claire remembered the gun shot in her ears from when she had touched the orb of light, followed by the scream before she flinched back into reality, shaking her head. "But my heart..." She said. "It's beating. I have a pulse!"  
"You were shot and you bled out, Claire." John said. "You're dead, but you're somehow here. Think about it, when was the last time you ate something, or went to the washroom." At her silent realization he cocked his loaded gun. "What are you, and what are you doing with my boys." He demanded, pointing the gun at her.   
At this Dean once again stepped forward, letting go of her hand and putting himself between Claire and the gun, its barrel touching his chest. "Lay off, Dad." He warned him.   
John glared at him. "This isn't you Dean, now move."  
"No." Dean flat out refused.   
"Dean, move!" John ordered, going to push him out of the way with the gun barrel.  
"No!" Claire exclaimed in panic, moving around Dean to uselessly grab the barrel. Immediately there was a gradual light which grew exponentially bright before John was thrown off his feet and back by some unseen force. The light then disappeared faster than it had appeared, Claire going unconscious as she began to collapse backwards, slumping into Dean's sturdy arms who kept her upright, watching her with worry.   
Sam quickly rushed over to their father who lay in a heap on the floor. "Dad?" He put a hand on his father's shoulder. "Are you okay?"  
"I'm fine, Sam." John said, struggling to sit up keeping an eye on the unconscious young woman in his eldest son's arms. "What the hell was that?"  
On the opposite side of the room, Dean ignored his family, struggling to keep Claire up. "Claire? Clairey?" He shook her gently, his heart once again thumping a mile a minute.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

In his arms, Dean felt Claire stir, moving slightly as she stretched and rolled over so that she was tucked into his chest. "Hey," He whispered, smiling as she slowly opened her eyes, blinking away the sleepiness that lingered. "You okay?"  
Claire hummed a response, stretching slightly before relaxing back on to the bed. Beneath her she felt Dean's arm rest under the small of her back before he wrapped it tight around her waist. "What happened?" She asked, her voice hoarse.   
Immediately Dean's smile vanished, a troubling look taking its place. "I don't know." He admitted. Both noticed how he didn't say "we," leaving John out of the conversation.   
It was silent for a moment save for their breathing as they thought about the news they had been given. "I'm not dead, am I, Dean?" Claire whispered worriedly. At this his gaze snapped hers. Seeing how scared she looked, he put his hand behind her head to tuck her into his chest.  
"No." He murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "No, you can't be."  
"I have a heart beat..." Claire pulled away to bring his hand to cup her neck as though to prove her point. "I'm breathing, I'm alive-"   
Beneath his touch, Dean could feel her quickened pulse. "Hey, hey!" He cooed, pushing stray hairs out of her face and repeatedly caressed her face. "It's okay, Clairey."  
She stared at him blankly for a moment before horror overtook her features. "Oh God," She gasped, tears welling up in her eyes. "My parents... Your Dad said- he said..."  
Finally she snapped, her body wracking with each heaving sob she choked out. Even Dean's eyes started to water as he watched her cry. He refused to though, instead cradling her to his chest as she let out all of her pent up emotions, stroking her head as a way of soothing her. However, just as fast as her tears had come on did they lull her back to sleep, her head relaxing into his shoulder. The occasional sob, hiccup and sniffle punctuated her breathing, but eventually that too stopped. Despite the fact that Claire had lost consciousness, Dean continued to stroke her hair, though this time more to calm his own fears. The images of Claire absorbing the light, unconscious in the lake, and somehow throwing his father across the room kept repeating themselves in his mind, making him nauseous to the core. Then his father's words about her in reality being dead? Claire was right, it was impossible. Although, considering the world he had been brought up in, the same world Claire had been raised in too, he realised, it was more than likely possible. How, however, was another question.   
"Get up, Dean." John suddenly ordered from where he sat on the couch, glaring at the two of them curled up together, bringing Dean back to reality.   
"Dad..." Dean began before being cut off.  
"Now, Dean!" John shouted.  
Looking down at Claire sleeping peacefully in his arms, he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, smiling slightly when she hummed in her sleep, and regretfully began to pull away. He didn't get very far however when she whimpered and unconsciously grabbed at his shirt with a frown. Watching them, John sighed in agitation at the sight before him. This was taking far too much longer than it had to. Dean caught his father's glare but didn't react, instead sweetly kissing Claire's cheek, making her further relax and allowing him to slip out of her grip and out of the bed. Looking down at her sleeping form fondly for a moment, Dean sighed and finally made his way to his father, dreading the conversation to come.   
Glancing at a sleeping Sammy in his own bed, he knew he was on his own, but he was okay with that. Dean was the one who had started it all, so it was up to him to man up and face the consequences. Walking up to his dad, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet. "You okay, Dad?" Dean asked, looking at him nervously.   
"Yeah, I'm fine." John said, nodding to himself. Then he looked up darkly. "You know she could do that?"  
"No sir." Dean thought for a moment. "I think I have an idea of how that happened..."  
"Then how? Bobby never mentioned anything out of the ordinary when he talked about her."   
Dean's brow wrinkled in confusion. "She knows Bobby?"  
"Bobby knows lots of hunters," John shrugged. "Not a surprise, really. So how do you think she was able to throw me back?"  
"Uhhh..." Dean thought about it for a moment. "That light that you've be goin’ after, she saw it. Got her into some sort of trance or something and led her to the middle of the frozen lake. After she touched it she ended up absorbing it before the ice broke beneath her and she fell in."   
"Shit." John sighed, wiping a hand down his face tiredly. "So she’s a ticking time bomb waiting to explode."  
This made Dean frown. "She won't hurt us."  
His father's eyes snapped up to glare at him. "You don’t know that." He argued.   
"Yes, I do." Dean insisted. "So she’s a ticking time bomb waiting to explode."  
This made Dean frown. "She won't hurt us."  
His father's eyes snapped up to glare at him. "You don’t know that." He argued.   
"Yes, I do." Dean insisted.   
“Oh really?” John jumped up off the couch. “How?”  
“Claire’s been nothing but nice to us. Never shown any signs of wanting to hurt us before, it’s not who she is.” Dean hissed.  
“Maybe not before, but after absorbing that light, you can’t be too sure. Even if she doesn’t mean to hurt you, Sam, or anyone else, she has the power to.”  
“I wouldn’t hurt anyone.” Claire’s soft voice makes John and Dean spin around to face her. There she was, sitting up in bed with her hazel eyes wide in fear as she looked at the two Winchesters, clutching the blankets around her tightly. “Especially Sam and Dean.” She promised John.  
He scoffed. “Yeah? What if you can’t control it?” When Claire remained silent, he continued on. “Now I’m already not happy about the fact that you threw me across the room, but if you do that to either one of my boys-”  
“I won’t.” Claire interjected. “I can’t.”  
“Can’t? What do you mean, can’t?” John questioned her.   
Looking at Sam and then at Dean, her expression softened. “I lo- care about them too much.” She stumbled over her words, attempting to correct them. Claire wasn’t quick enough however as both John and Dean caught what she began to say, John’s expression hardening in anger while Dean’s heart swelled with hope. Love. Was she going to say love? After two weeks of getting to know them, she already loved them? Guess he wasn’t the only crazy one after all.  
“Still don’t trust you.” John declared, sitting back down. “I don’t trust other Hunters.”  
Claire nodded. “I understand.”  
“Now do either of you want to explain how you got into this situation in the first place?” He looked between the two, clearly mad.  
“We invited her over.” Dean boldly spoke up, drawing a concerned look from Claire. “We’ve been having her over for the past week.”  
“You, what?” John spoke low and slowly, his voice dripping with anger.  
“We had her come over every night to hang out with us because she was alone at her hotel and she’s been bullied for the past two weeks at school. She needed company, dad.” Dean said.  
“Kids are cruel that way, Dean.” His father spat. “Besides, I gave you an order, an order you disregarded.”  
“Well it was my fault she was being bullied. I had to do something!”  
“What would it have mattered? We would have been gone soon if it wasn’t for your selfish actions!” John shouted as he once again shot out of his seat, making Dean Stumble back slightly. At this Claire scrambled up to run to Dean’s side, throwing her small frame in front of his large one. When he caught sight of his father’s enraged expression, Dean reached forward to snatch Claire around the waist to pull her back against his chest for fear of what his father might try and do. Again. “Look at you! You don’t even know what she is and you’re protecting her!” He whirled around to pace the room. In his arms, Claire turned to face Dean and to cower in fear, John’s anger worrying her as to what he may do.   
“She’s a person. Her name is Claire. And I care about her. Now back off, Dad.” Dean grit out, tightening his protective hold on Claire.   
John laughed without any feeling. “You got some nerve, boy.” He then turned his glare on to Claire. “You’re talking to Bobby tomorrow, figure this all out.”   
She cautiously turned to look at him at the mention of Bobby’s name. “You know Bobby?” She asked.  
“Yeah.” He said turning away, effectively ending the conversation.   
Claire and Dean continued to watch him for a moment before looking to each other. Smiling slightly, Dean pushed a few stray hairs out of Claire’s face. “Cummon,” He said quietly. “Let’s get some sleep.”  
Nodding, she took him by the hand as they made their way back to the bed they had been in earlier. As Claire climbed back in and began to make herself comfortable, Dean began to get in himself when his father’s voice stopped him.  
“Dean.” John’s single word came out as a warning, clearly not happy about the sleeping arrangements that his son was deciding on.  
Instead however, Dean followed through with his actions, settling in the bed lying next to Claire. Rolling on his side to face her, he opened his arms as an invitation that she immediately accepted, scooting into his embrace and snuggling into him contentedly. Quickly the pair fell asleep once again in each other’s arms while John sat in a chair feet away, his gun in his hands as he kept watch over them all night.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"CLAIRE!!"   
The image of Claire falling through the ice haunted Dean's mind before disappearing as he slowly opened his eyes, waking up from what felt like a short sleep. Looking down he saw Claire tucked into his chest sleeping peacefully, her mouth slightly agape as she continued to breathe evenly. Smiling slightly to himself, he watched her for a moment before sighing and carefully getting out of bed, making sure not to jostle her too much as he relinquished his hold on her. Starting to make his way to the bathroom, Dean had to stop when he noticed his father still sitting on the chair he had seated himself in last night, still watching Claire with complete distrust.   
"Mornin' Dad." He said slowly, slightly confused by what was going on.   
"Dean." John nodded.  
“Did… did you sit there and watch us all night?” Dean asked, staring strangely at him. At the question, John nodded once again. “Dammit, Dad. You don’t have to worry okay? Everything will be fine.”   
This made John scoff. “Yeah, you keep sayin that.” Staring at his dad in disbelief for a moment, Dean threw his hands into the air before going into the bathroom as John continued to keep watch. After the door had closed, he waited for beat before speaking. "I know you're awake over there." He said gruffly, watching the blankets rise and fall with every breath Claire took. When he didn't get a response, John got off his chair to walk between the two beds to see Claire's face. She was indeed awake, but her eyes were watery; glassy and distant as she stared past him and the bed behind him, focusing on nothing. "Hey!" John called, making Claire slowly move her empty gaze up to meet his. "Now I'm goin' to call Bobby in a couple of minutes, okay? Be ready."   
Nodding slightly, Claire rolled onto her right side to look away from him, and remained silent for a minute before her shoulders began to shake as she started to quietly sob. Feeling rather uncomfortable at the girl's display of emotions, John opened his mouth to say something to make her be quiet when a tired voice spoke up behind him.   
"Leave her alone, Dad." Sam said.   
Turning around to look at Sam in disbelief who lay on his stomach in the other bed, squinting up at his dad in the morning light, he chuckled. "You're getting to be as bad as your brother." He said in a hard tone before making his way to the kitchenette.   
Rolling his eyes, Sam shook his head before climbing out of his bed to sit on Dean and Claire's bed next to the crying girl, stroking her soft curls wordlessly. He continued do so even after Dean finally emerged from the bathroom, the sniffling and Sam's comforting catching his attention and making him worried. "What happened?" He asked, rushing over to sit next to where she faced and started to smooth her hair down.  
Sam withdrew his hands as his brother took over and gave him a look that said do you really need to ask, making Dean nod his head in understanding before he returned his attention to Claire, stroking her face, her hair, cooing anything in an attempt to try and get her to calm down. Watching from where he sat, Sam looked on sadly before getting up and making his way to the kitchenette to make himself some breakfast. Grabbing a box of cereal, a bowl, spoon, and the jug of milk, he placed it all on the table and sat across from his father who was still watching Claire and Dean on high alert. Sighing as he poured his cereal, Sam shook his head. "Stop worrying, Dad. She's perfectly safe."  
"You saw what she did last night," John broke his glare to look at his youngest son.  
"Yeah, and she did it to protect Dean." Sam interjected quickly. "You were mad, you went to push Dean with a gun, and Claire got scared. She didn't mean to hurt anyone."  
John shook his head. "If so, then that makes it worse."   
"How?"   
"She's unstable, she can't control it. Even if she doesn't mean to hurt anyone, she could do some serious damage." He said lowly.   
"Claire still won't hurt us." Sam grumbled before he started to eat his cereal. As he did so, he didn't catch the worried look his dad gave him before he pushed away from the table to grab his cell phone. Inputting the number, John put the phone to his ear and walked as far away from the teens as he could without leaving the room for obvious reasons.   
"Hello?" Came the gruff greeting on the other end of the line.  
"Hey, Bobby." John said.   
"John, you get a hold of the Shanahans yet?" Bobby skipped over the pleasantries and got straight to the point.  
"They're dead." John replied flatly.   
The news made Bobby swear. "Balls. Well what happened?"  
"A break in. Of all the things that could have happened to them, go figure that was the way to go. I'd say they've been there since about New Year’s based on what Claire told us."   
"Claire? She's alive?" Bobby asked quickly, hope filling his voice.   
Turning to look back to the beds, John saw the girl in question was still sobbing and being consoled by Dean. "I dunno."  
This stunned the older hunter for a moment. "What do you mean, you don't know?" He demanded.  
"Look, Bobby. There were three bodies in the house, parents and the intruder, but across the room it was a whole other crime scene. No body thought, just a lot of blood and bullets, like they just got up and walked away." John explained, moving to get salt, holy water, and a silver knife. "It could only be her, but there she is, sitting with Dean alive and in the flesh."   
"Shit." Bobby swore again. "You do the normal routine check yet?"  
"Not yet, she hasn't said a word to me today." Dean, who had been discreetly listening in on his father's words, glared at him at this statement.   
"For God's sake, John. She just lost her parents, take it easy on her." Bobby scolded him.  
John gritted his teeth. "There's more."  
It was silent in the following moments before Bobby spoke again. "There's more?" This was followed by a sigh. "There always is in this line of work, isn't there? What is it?"   
"Why don't you talk with her?" John suggested. "Probably be more willing to talk to you than she would be to me."  
"Yeah, sure." Bobby agreed.   
"Claire," At the sound of her name being called, both Claire and Dean looked up to John who held the phone out to her. While Dean still glared at his father, Claire looked at him with watery red rimmed eyes. Nonetheless though, she made a move to get up. However, Dean tightened his arms around her waist, preventing her from moving away from him. This made her look back to him, who in turn looked down at her worriedly. From where he stood impatiently, John couldn't hear the quiet words they exchanged, but whatever it was, after the girl put her right hand over his son's heart, her ring flashing in the light that filtered through the curtains, it made Dean's face soften considerably and relinquish his hold on her. Getting on her knees, Claire placed a kiss on his forehead before patting his head fondly and getting up, walking across the room to hesitantly take the phone from John.  
"Hello?" She said into the phone hoarsely.   
“Hey hon, how’re you feelin?” Bobby said in a bright and gentle tone.  
This made her smile slightly. “I’ve been better.” Claire answered truthfully.  
There was a slight snort on the other end of the line. “I bet. Sorry to hear about your folks, but you’re always welcome here if you want a place to stay.”  
“Thanks, Bobby.” Claire sniffled. Immediately Dean made his way to her side, ready to comfort her if necessary, making her smile up at him thankfully and John make an unimpressed noise from across the room.   
“And sorry in advance about John’s behaviour.” Bobby added.  
“It’s okay,” Claire shrugged, refusing to meet the glare the man had set on her. “I understand why though. Besides, Sam and Dean are taking good care of me.”  
“Those boys better take damn good care of you.” He growled.  
“Don’t worry,” She assured him with a laugh while winking up at Dean. “They’re amazing.”   
Bobby laughed as well. “That’s good to hear. So, anything you want to tell me about what happened?”  
Claire exhaled nervously, clutching the phone tighter while thumbing her silver ring around her right hand’s ring finger. Seeing this, Dean wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him in support. Leaning her head against his chest, she took another breath to calm herself before speaking. “New Year’s eve, just before midnight,” She began, her voice shaky. “Dad sent me down to check out the basement. He had said you told him it would serve our needs well. So I went downstairs, but after a moment there was gunfire and thumping upstairs. Dad had been getting our gear while Mum and I checked out the house, and there could have been a possibility that something had accidentally gone off. Except it didn’t sound like any of the guns we have, so I ran upstairs and they were…”  
Claire stopped rambling, unable to get the last word out as a lump formed in her throat, her eyes tearing up. Without letting go, Dean wordlessly coaxed her into sitting on the sofa to which she immediately burrowed her way into his side, feeling slightly better at the gesture. Sighing as she relaxed a fraction in his arms, she continued on. “Anyways, there was a masked man in the kitchen doorway and he tried to shoot me. I managed to hide behind the table where Dad had been putting the weapons, and as the man reloaded his gun, I grabbed my knife off of the table and threw it at him.”  
“You always were good at throwing knives.” Bobby added. Dean caught this and looked at Claire surprised, privately impressed at her hidden skill. Claire however avoided his gaze, opting to stare straight ahead instead.  
“Managed to get him in the heart,” Claire nodded, speaking in a way that was in no way bragging. “But not before he could get me in mine.”   
There was silence on both ends of the phone as the men processed the information they had just heard. On her side, John’s glare intensified and Sam could only stare at her in shock. Dean however felt frozen to the core; all he could manage was to pull her even tighter to him, almost as if in a possessive way, which it exactly was.  
“What happened next?” Bobby finally asked, wanting all pieces of the puzzle.   
Squeezing her eyes shut, the events that had followed flashed in quick succession, dragging her from reality for a moment, but Dean squeezing her in support brought her back. “To be honest, I don’t know.” She admitted. “I looked down and saw the wound, there was a gradual build of light before I fell to the floor, and then I woke up in bed alone at the hotel we had been staying at.”  
“Alright.” Bobby said after a moment. “Claire hon, John’s going to do the normal drill to see if you’re you. It’s not that I don’t trust you-”  
“It’s just better to be safe rather than sorry.” Claire said nodding. “I know.”  
“Okay, kid. Pass me over to John and let’s get this show on the road.” He told her.  
Looking over to John, Claire held the phone out to him as he brought over the necessary tools and placed them on the table. Taking the phone from her, he held it up to his ear as he watched the two teenagers stand up from the couch together, their arms still around each other. “Salt first.” John said, holding out a canister. Letting go of Dean, who in return unwillingly let go of her, Claire stepped forward to take the canister and poured a decent amount of salt into her hand and brought it up to her mouth where she threw it down the hatch.  
“That’s gotta be healthy.” She grimaced at the intense flavor, but was otherwise normal.  
“Nothin’.” John told Bobby over the phone before handing her a glass of Holy Water. Taking that from him she downed that as well, again with no strange results. Dean sighed, smiling slightly at her for a moment before it disappeared completely as his father held up a silver knife. “Give me your arm.” John instructed.  
“Dad-” Dean began to protest.  
“Shut up, Dean.” His Dad told him before looking back to Claire, who obediently held her arm out for him. Slowly John dragged the blade across the exposed underside of her pale forearm, making Dean squeeze his eyes shut. It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle watching someone get a knife taken to them; he just didn’t like the fact that it was Claire his father was cutting into. The cut however was clean, and the blood that seeped out was normal making Sam who was watching from afar sigh with relief. “She’s clean.” John declared, taking the bloody knife away from her arm.  
The moment the words were out of his father’s mouth, Dean had snapped his eyes open and rushed over to Claire, eyeing the new wound before dragging her to the washroom and slamming the door shut behind them. Grabbing a towel from off of the rack, he got on his knees in front of her as he folded it and pressed it against the laceration, putting pressure on it to keep it from bleeding any further. As he pressed down on it, Claire hardly flinched at the pain, simply watching Dean who refused to look at her and instead looked at the towel covering her arm.  
“Dean,” She said gently, but he still did not look at her. “Dean look at me.” When once again he did not do so, she placed her left hand under his chin and raised his face so she could see him. After a moment, he slowly raised his gaze to meet her.   
“I’m sorry.” He whispered.  
Claire arched an eyebrow. “About what I had to do? Sweetie, I understand why I had to do it. Look at the bright side, maybe your Dad will let off a little now.”  
“Still…” Dean mumbled, turning his head away.  
“Dean,” She dropped to her knees to be on the same level as he was, although she was still a little shorter than he was like it was when they stood up, and yanked her arm out of his hands, the towel hanging limply from it. “I’m fine. The amount of concern you have for me is overwhelming and appreciated, but unfortunately, we’re Hunters. It’s a part of the job.”   
This made him look at her weirdly. “What do you mean, unfortunately?”   
“I’ve been raised in this lifestyle; from the moment I could walk and talk I started training. Within reason of course. But all my life it’s all I’ve ever known.” Claire smiled at him sadly. “I want out. Simple as that.”  
Dean huffed. “And what? Live some normal, apple life?”   
“No. Not normal. Safe.” She said quietly, looking away.  
Studying her, Dean instantly felt bad about his reaction, making it his turn to put a hand under her chin and bring her face back towards his. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”   
Claire shrugged. “S’ok.” She said, her eyes downcast.  
Sighing, Dean brought an arm around her waist and put his free hand to the back of her neck so he could bring into a tight embrace. “No it’s not.” He sighed, weaving his fingers through her hair. “I shouldn’t be dumping on your dreams; I guess it’s just hard for me to understand. I’m sorry.”  
Tensing for a moment, Claire remained rigid in his arms before relaxing with a shuddering sigh. “It’s okay.” She said truthfully, wrapping her own arms around his torso comfortably, her cheek resting against his shoulder. They stayed like that for a long time before Dean pulled back sharply.   
“Oh shit, your arm!” He shouted, grabbing her arm gingerly but quickly. To their shock and amazement however, underneath the towel, aside from the smeared blood that was drying on her arm, there was no cut, nor any sign that her arm had been cut into. “What the hell…” Dean murmured, leaning in to study her arm closer.  
Above him Claire too studied her arm, her brow furrowing before she yanked her arm out of his grasp to study it closer herself before standing up in shock. “No…” She gasped, studying the length of her arm before looking at her other arm.  
“Clairey?” Dean asked in concern as she started looking over her arms and then her reflection in the mirror. “What’s wrong?” Claire didn’t reply though as she studied her face, saw nothing, then started looking over her neck then pulled down the collar of her borrowed shirt, studying the bit of her skin that was exposed with ever growing wide eyes. As quick as she could, she moved to yank her shirt off when Dean intervened. “Whoah! Clairey, stop! What’s wrong?” He asked, looking into her wide eyes as his hands grasped her own that were still wrapped in the fabric of the shirt.  
“Turn around.” She instructed breathlessly. Looking at her worriedly, Dean slowly backed away, letting go of her hands and turning around. Behind him he heard whisper of fabric and a soft thud on the tiled floor before there was a clanking, more whispering, and a click. “Okay, you can look.” Claire told him.  
Turning back in confusion, Dean jumped at the sight before him. “Holy crap, Clairey! What the hell?” He said, averting his gaze from Claire as she stood studying her torso in the mirror, standing only in her borrowed sweat pants and her now dry bra.   
“If you don’t like what you see, then don’t look.” She told him as she continued to study her torso, turning to get a glimpse of her back.  
“It’s not that…” Dean mumbled, looking down for a moment before looking back up at her and grabbing her by the shoulders to spin her around to look at him. “Look, you’re freakin me out, what’s wrong?”  
“Look at me.” She said to him. When his gaze dropped down to her torso for only a fraction of a second, she rolled her eyes. “No really, look at me.”  
After a moment of staring her in the eye, Dean cautiously lowered his gaze to study her upper body, taking in the image of her perfect and creamy skin, not seeing anything wrong with her body. And not in the way that she wasn’t a good looking girl, because she was a good looking girl, almost perfect in every way. However obviously that wasn’t what was to be worried about. “I don’t get it.” He shook his head. “You’re perfect. What’s wrong with that?”   
“That’s the point, I’m perfect. Not to sound full of myself.” Claire mused.  
“So?” Dean said.   
“Dean, I’m a Hunter, just like you. I should be covered in scars. I should have scars on my back from being thrown into fences and buildings. I should have a scar slightly below my hairline from smacking my head off of a tombstone. I should have a scar from having my appendix removed as a kid. I should have something to show that I was shot in the heart among other places. I should have several scars. Except there’s nothing. I’m like a slate that’s been wiped clean. I’m perfect. How could I not notice that before?” She said, whispering the last part while turning back to the mirror and running a hand absentmindedly down her arm. This struck Dean speechless. She was absolutely right, being a Hunter meant you automatically would get some scars with tales of their own, but there she stood. Not a single mark on her skin. All he could do was once again wind his arms around her slender waist and pull her close as she looked up at him with watery eyes and asked “What am I, Dean?”   
As she threw her arms around his neck, he became a little more aware of what little clothing she was wearing as he took in the feeling of her soft bare skin against his cheek and under his hands. “Uhh… Clairey?” He murmured into her neck.  
“Yeah?” She murmured back.   
“You should probably put your shirt back on now.” He said awkwardly.  
Pulling back, Claire bent down to pick up the shirt. “You were one of the last people I would have thought to say-” She started as she put the shirt on before she stopped talking, her eyes widening once more before she whirled around, dropped to her knees, and threw up into the toilet. Immediately Dean was at her side, holding her thick hair back and away from her face and rubbing her back as she threw up the little contents of her stomach, once again softly cooing in her ear.   
Outside of the bathroom, John was still on the phone with Bobby, and when he heard the throwing up from inside, he sighed.  
“What was that for?” Bobby asked him.   
“Claire just threw up.” He told him, rubbing his hand down his face in exhaustion.   
“Well you said it seems like she hasn’t eaten anything since she was shot, so it’s not a big surprise that her body is rejecting what she just forced down her throat.” Bobby said.  
“Yeah.”   
“So Dean said Claire touched the light last night?” He asked.  
John nodded. “Yeah, said she absorbed it too. It’s gotta be the same light she saw from the night she died, she’s gotta be connected to this hunt somehow.”  
“I agree. I’ll look into that, but in the meantime, something’s gotta be done about David, Cheyenne, and the robber's bodies. We can’t just leave them there.” Bobby told him.  
“I’ll go salt and burn them, house too. Can’t keep that crime scene like that with Claire still walking and talking.” John agreed.  
“Yeah. Best you do it Sunday night, so if the police want to question Claire, then at least they can do it at school where she has time to make an alibi.” Bobby instructed.   
“Got it, I’ll talk to you later, Bobby.”  
“Yeah, you look after her, John.” He said before the line went dead.  
*  
The following afternoon, evening, and then Sunday was not a fun filled event as when John told Claire the plan, while she took the news with a straight face, she cried for the rest of the day, and then Sunday after she woke up from crying the night before. Then, before the clock struck midnight on Sunday, she managed to stop crying to pile into the Impala with the Winchester’s and they drove to her house.   
“Just take the weapons, I don’t want them.” She had told John when he asked her about them after she refused to step a foot inside the house. Then without another word, he had left the teens in the car parked around the corner to complete the job. Sitting in the back seat of the Impala with Dean holding her to his chest, and Sam sitting quietly in the passenger seat, after half an hour an orange light grew in the short distance. As the flames began to grow, so did Claire’s tears; her chance at a normal life now literally going up in smoke. When John came back, the tongues of the flame were just visible over the tops of the neighbouring houses that blocked their view, making Claire cry even harder into Dean’s chest as he silently held her to him even tighter, a blank but troubled look on his face.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The Impala's came to a stop in the school parking lot as John drove Sam, Dean and Claire to school Monday morning, John putting it in park so he could turn in his seat to look at Claire who sat right next to Dean in the back seat, his arm slung around her shoulders. "You remember the story?" He asked, knowing he shouldn't spend much time talking to her in case anyone was watching. In turn he received a wide eyed nod in response. "Good, and try act as though everything is normal. Don't want them suspect in anything, which they might already."   
"Don't worry, Dad. It'll be fine." Dean told him, rolling his eyes and tightening his arm around Claire.   
Huffing, John jerked his head towards the school. "Get goin'. I'll be here for you after school to pick you up."   
"Thanks, Dad." Sam said before getting out of the car.  
"Bye, Mr. Winchester." Claire said quietly as she too got out of the car, Dean following close behind her. Slamming the door behind him, Dean immediately grabbed Claire's hand as the three of them stood back and John pulled away, the Impala's engine rumbling as it drove away.   
"You sure you can do this?" Dean said quietly as they walked towards the building.   
"Yeah." She breathed, holding her head up high with a smile on her face. Despite how confidently she was walking, Claire squeezed tightly on his hand, her own trembling as she did so.  
"By the way, you two looked real cute sleeping together last night." Sam said with a grin, making Dean go red and Claire laugh, trying and succeeding in making the tension that had been hanging over them dissipate noticeably as they entered the school and into the empty hallway.   
"Shut up, Sam." Dean mumbled.   
"What? You don't want to know how tight you were hugging her to you, or how tight she was clutching to your shirt? If someone had tried to pull you guys apart they would have broken their arms, that's how tight you guys were holding on to each other. Would have thought the world was ending by the looks of you two." Sam teased.  
"Sammy..." Claire protested, still laughing but going red as well from embarrassment.   
"Cummon, Sammy! Let up! You're embarrassing the poor woman!" Dean protested, reaching in front of him and Claire to push his little brother who walked on the other side of Claire.  
This however made Sam laugh. "Guess I shouldn't mention that I took a picture with one of the cameras."  
"Bitch." Dean muttered as Claire squeezed his hand again with a laugh.   
"Jerk." Sam said back.  
"Assholes." Claire interjected, making them stop in the hall. Immediately their small group was silenced for a moment as Sam and Dean looked at her in surprise as she blankly looked at them. Soon after they all cracked, throwing their heads back in laughter that bounced through the hallway. They continued to laugh so hard that they began to tear up, feeling better than any of them had felt in so long, but that feeling was not to last as the sound of running and a shout immediately ceased their laughter.   
"Miss Shanahan! Oh thank god you're alright!" A teacher called to her breathlessly as she ran to the three.  
Sam, Dean and Claire all looked at each other in "confusion," Dean squeezing Claire's hand discreetly in support as she turned to the teacher. "Of course I am." She said to the woman laughing uneasily. "Why wouldn't I be?"  
The teacher's face fell with great sadness when she heard this. "Claire, I think it would be best if you come with me."  
Claire took a nervous step towards Dean, a scared look on her face. "What's wrong?" She asked.  
"Just... Come with me dear." The teacher smiled slightly.   
Looking up at Dean, he smiled at her reassuringly, squeezing her hand once more for good measure before pulling his hand away. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Claire looked to the two boys before walking toward and away with the teacher. "I'm not in trouble am I?" She asked nervously, looking back to Sam and Dean who were still standing where they had left them, watching her walk away.   
"No..." The teacher seemed hesitant to say, making the conversation end as they entered the main office and into the main principal's office. There inside waited the principal accompanied by two police officers, a male and a female. At the sight of the two officers, Claire blanched.  
"Hello, officers..." She greeted them uncertainly, taking in their pitied expressions.  
"Claire, could you have a seat?" The principal, Mr. Bell asked her tiredly, gesturing to the seat in front of his desk.  
Doing as she was told, Claire went to smooth down her skirt when she remembered she was wearing borrowed jeans and T-shirt from Sam. Instead, she went to her secondary nervous habit and began twisting her ring around her finger.   
“Miss Shanahan, we’d just like to ask you a couple of questions if you don’t mind.” The male officer told her. When Claire nodded in response, he continued on. “First off, where were you last night?”  
She gave him a look of surprise and confusion. “I slept over at Sam and Dean Winchester’s place.”   
“And why were you there?” The female officer asked.  
“My parents have been out of town for a couple of weeks on a job, and they were supposed to come home this weekend.” Claire told them, her words flowing as easily as though she were telling the truth, which to their knowledge, she seemed to be. “When they didn’t show up, the Winchesters had me stay with them so I wouldn’t be alone.”  
“And the Winchesters, have you stayed with them before?”  
“Yes, I stay with them after school every day until the late evening.” She then looked around the room to all the adults in confusion. “If I may be so bold, why does this matter?”  
“Claire, last night officials were called to your house where the entire building was completely consumed by fire.” The female officer began.  
“No…” Claire whispered in disbelief, her eyes widening with skill and practice.   
“When the flames were put out, firefighters discovered the bodies of your parents and their attacker. It appears he killed them before he set the fire and killed himself.” The officer continued on.   
“No…” Was all Claire managed to moan as tears spilled over her eyes. This time however she wasn’t acting, as the reality that her parents were truly gone hit her like a freight train once more. “No…” She cried.  
“I’m sorry, Claire. But your parents are gone.” The male officer confirmed.  
As Claire let out a disbelieving wail of despair, Mr. Bell gave her a pitied look before motioning in the teacher who had brought Claire into the office, mumbled something into her ear, before she went scurrying out of the office.  
*  
In English class, Dean sat in his normal place in the back of the class, except this time, all alone. He barely paid attention to the lecture his teacher gave, instead choosing to stare at the top of his empty desk and wonder how Claire was doing in he could only assume she was brought to the main office. Dean didn’t have to wonder any longer however as there was a knock on the door that his attention immediately snapped to. Stopping his lecture, Mr. Carter opened the door to reveal the teacher that had taken Dean’s Claire away.  
“Mrs. Jackson, can I help you?” Mr. Carter asked her.  
“Yes, could I borrow Dean Winchester, please?” She asked, making Dean sit up straight in his seat.  
“Of course. Dean?” His teacher turned to look at him.  
As Dean got up to leave, Mrs. Jackson’s voice stopped him. “I think you should take anything you have here with you.” She advised him.  
Seeing as he had nothing but the leather jacket he was wearing, Dean got out of his seat to purposefully walk through the class to walk out the door, nodding to Mr. Carter as he passed. As soon as they left the room, Dean and Mrs. Jackson hurried down the hall. “Is there something wrong, Mam?” Dean asked, his eyes fixed ahead.  
“It’s Claire, actually.” Her words made him stop to look at her worriedly. “We were hoping you could help.”  
“Well, what is it?” Dean asked, knowing very well what it was.  
“She was at your house last night she said.” Mrs. Jackson told him.   
He nodded. “That’s right, has been for a couple of days.”  
Looking around worriedly, she leaned in to speak lowly. “Last night Claire’s house burned to the ground by an invader, killing both her parents.”   
“What?” Dean asked, making the teacher nod.  
“She’s in a bit of a doozey right now, and you two seem to be very close, so we were hoping you could calm her down.”   
“Of course.” He promised, nodding again.  
Smiling thankfully, Mrs. Jackson led him down the hall and into the main office. Once the main office door was opened, a muffled heartbreaking wail could be heard from within, painfully piercing Dean’s heart as he realised she was truly crying, and not putting on an act. This was true pain. Reaching the main principal’s door, the teacher stopped to politely knock on the door, pricking Dean’s annoyance. He would have just barrelled in just to make Claire stop crying. However, if he thought her crying behind a closed door was heartbreaking, it was utterly soul crushing when an officer opened the door, allowing her screams of anguish to be completely heard. Quickly the two were ushered into the office, the door shut behind them once they were inside. Upon seeing Claire folded upon herself and crying madly, Dean rushed over to her and dropped to his knees, immediately cooing to her, stroking her cheeks and wiping away the onslaught of tears.   
“Clairey… Hey… It’s okay, I’m here.” He promised quietly. Claire could only hiccup and sniffle as she continued to cry, no longer able to talk. Brushing her hair that had stuck to her tear stained face, Dean pressed his forehead to hers and squeezed his eyes shut. “I know hon, it’s okay. It’s okay.”   
“I assume you told him of the situation.” He barely heard an officer behind him ask Mrs. Jackson.  
“Yes I did.” She confirmed. “The poor thing.”  
Ignoring everyone in the room, Dean moved to wrap his arms under Claire’s arms and knees, picking her up off her chair so that he could sit there instead and hold her in his lap. The moment he had her settled she turned to fist her hands into his shirt and leaned into his chest as she continued to cry, leaving him to stroke her hair, her back, and to whisper reassurances in her ear.   
For a long time, Claire continued to cry, even past the bell signalling the first period was over. It was half way through the second period that she finally began to settle down until she had stopped crying, simply sitting in Dean’s lap, still clutching his shirt as though she were afraid he too would leave her, and her eyes wide and glassy. It was silent as everyone gauged whether or not Claire would burst into tears or not, but it was Dean who broke the silence.  
“Hey hon, you okay?” He asked quietly, stroking her hair.  
Claire’s head slightly moved as she gave a slight shake of head in a no.  
It was considered positive that the she had responded, as the male officer deemed it safe to start asking questions again. “Claire, you aren’t eighteen yet, correct?”  
A slight shake as if to say yes.  
“Do you have a godparent that was chosen as a guardian should anything happen to your parents?” He pressed on.  
“Robert Singer, Sioux Falls. South Dakota.” Claire answered mechanically.  
Of course it would be Bobby. Dean thought to himself, secretly pleased to know that her godfather was Bobby. That would mean he would be able to see her when… Dean didn’t want to think of leaving Claire, especially not now, making him tighten his hold on her slightly.  
“Alright,” The officer nodded. “Is there someone you can stay with while we get in contact with Mr. Singer about your situation?”  
Automatically Claire wordlessly looked up to Dean, making him look to the officers. “She’ll stay with my family.” He told them, both officers nodding.  
“Well then, I think at this point Miss Shanahan is very tired, and could use some personal time. Perhaps it would be best if you take her home, Mr. Winchester.” The principal suggested.   
Dean nodded. “Yeah. Could someone call my Dad to come get us?” He asked.   
“Of course.” Mrs. Jackson offered before leaving the room.   
After the call was made and sympathies were expressed, Claire and Dean soon found themselves waiting in the front entrance of the school, watching out for John. The entire time, Dean kept her tucked inside his jacket and in his embrace, knowing she needed the support after what had happened today, hell the past few days, Claire herself remaining silent the entire time. When John finally did roll up to the school, the two quickly hurried out of the building and into the Impala, John nodding when he saw the two were buckled in the backseat before pulling out of the parking lot.  
“Good job, kid.” He said, eyeing Claire in the rear-view mirror.   
Claire stayed quiet, leaning heavily into Dean as a new tear slid down her cheek. Around her, Dean’s arm tightened at his father’s passive “compliment.”


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"Claire," John shouted as he opened the door of the motel room, Sam following in behind him, having been picked up from school. "We're goin to go get your stuff from your hotel, let's go."  
Dean, who had been lying next to Claire since she had sprawled out unmovingly on the bed the moment they had been brought back to the motel that morning, turned his head to look behind at him to glare at his dad. Claire on the other hand remained staring emptily at the ceiling, the spark that normally resided there in her eyes now dead and her expression blank. Sighing at the angry look her received from John, Dean took the arm that wasn’t underneath her to smooth her hair, stroke her cheek, something to garner some sort of response from her.  
“Cummon, Clairey.” He encouraged her quietly.   
Finally, after having not moved the entire afternoon, Claire's eyes slowly to meet his; and the pain and anguish that Dean found there utterly heart breaking. Slowly sitting up, he guided her as she too sat up, keeping an arm behind her back to support her as she did so. When she was sitting on the edge of the bed, Claire leaned heavily into him for support, her breath small pants as she tried not to cry. Tightening his arm around her shoulder, Dean kept her in his embrace, moving with her to keep a comforting arm around her shoulders still as she stood up and shuffled towards the door. Slipping her boots on, the only thing that had survived her icy dip save for her vest and undergarments, Claire was soon enveloped in a hug by Sam, whom she immediately hugged back, burying her face in the shoulder of his jacket.  
"You okay, Claire?" Sam asked, rubbing her back soothingly.  
Remaining silent, Claire shook her head.  
Continuing to rub her back, Sam looked up to meet his brother's gaze and nodding himself before pulling back Claire who sniffled. The moment Sam had let go of her she latched onto Dean's side, to which he pulled her close to him once more. From in front of them, John sighed in annoyance before gesturing to the open door.   
"Come on, let get going." He ordered.   
Dropping his school bag on the ground, Sam then walked out of the motel room ahead of Dean and Claire, then John who locked the door behind them. Walking down the stairs to parking lot, Dean went to open the backdoor for him and Claire to sit in when his father’s voice stopped him.   
"She can sit up front, Dean."  
He turned to look at John with shock and slight anger. "Dad-" He began to argue before being cut off.   
"Now, Dean!" John shouted.   
Looking down worriedly at her, Dean found Claire staring up at him with calm red eyes. She placed a reassuring hand on his chest before she smiled at him. After a moment of silent arguing, Dean finally relented and smiled slightly back at her, placing his own hand on her cheek. Claire leaned into his touch in appreciation before pulling away and getting into the passenger seat. With a frown and a shake of his head, he climbed into the backseat with his brother.   
After a couple of painstakingly quiet minutes of driving to Claire's hotel, they finally pulled into the parking lot, and as soon as the car had come to stop, the three teenagers were out of the vehicle and standing next to each other, Claire literally latching onto Dean as though he were her oversized talisman.   
"Let's go." John barked from the other side of the car before he stalked toward the hotel doors, annoyed by the childish antics. The three quickly scurried in after him into the lobby, and once inside, the man at the counter smiled sympathetically when he saw Claire tucked into Dean's side.   
"Hey, Claire!" He called to her. "I heard about your parents, so sorry that happened."   
She gave him a small thankful smile. "Thanks, Carl."  
"If there's anything I can do, just let me know." Carl nodded to her.   
"Actually, I'm going to get my stuff and check out, if you don't mind." Claire told him.  
"Alright, let me know if you need anything." He said helpfully before disappearing into a room behind the counter.  
Smiling weakly, Claire watched him leave before looking to the Winchesters. "Right then," She sighed before marching past them and toward the elevator. Pushing the button to go up, she stood back and waited, Dean's fingers braiding themselves together with hers as Sam and John walked across the lobby to join them at the elevator doors. When it finally dinged and opened, the small group quickly piled into the small compartment. Pressing the sixth floor button, Claire stood back and against Dean's chest as the elevator made its slow ascent upwards, the awkward silence deafening as there was no music playing in the elevator. There was only Dean's absent minded humming as he held Claire close.   
After what felt like a small infinity, the lift came to a stop and its doors slid opened. Immediately the four of them burst out of the tiny space, and after looking around, Claire took an unnecessary breath to calm herself before leading the men down a hallway. After a minute or so of walking down the empty hall, she led them to a stop in front of room 40, and upon unlocking the door, Claire flew into the room and started grabbing her belongings and placing them on the second large bed near the window in the room.   
Stepping into the room, the two younger Winchesters saw their friend's hotel room was quite smaller than their own, as well as neatly organised. Dean smiled to himself slightly as he walked further into the room, watching the young woman hurry about as she folded her clothing into her small duffle bag. Meanwhile, John studied the thick lines of salt lining the door and window in approval.   
"Dean, pass me my music." Claire's voice interrupted his staring, making him shake his head slightly. This made her smile lightly, then, tucking her hair behind her hair, she walked over to him to stand on her tip toes as she placed her small hands on his chest and brought her lips up to his ear. "Feel free to look later." She whispered. As she took a step back, Claire felt rather proud of herself when she saw the shocked look on his face. Biting her lip, she smiled a little wider at him before pointing to the chest of drawers behind him. "Music." She reminded to him before turning away. "Sam, mind passing me my book?" Claire called as she hurried around the room, gathering more of her belongings.   
"Yeah, sure." Dean barely heard his brother reply as he stood there rooted to the spot in shock. After a moment, he started to smile as turned to face the dresser. He was starting to figure out that Claire wasn't as quiet as she had originally let on.   
And he liked it.   
So when he felt a pat on his bottom, Dean jumped almost a foot high before he whirled around to see Claire walk by him with a wink and teasing smile.  
"Focus, sweetheart." She told him.  
He smirked back at her. "Sure thing, sugar."  
"Clairey." She chided him before returning to her packing.  
Looking to the dresser, Dean studied the CD Walkman and connected clunky headphones that sat neatly to a respectable number of CDs cases. Quickly sliding through them, he read the names printed on the covers: Loreena McKennitt, Reba McEntire, Survivor, Phantom of the Opera, Jesus Christ Superstar; she had two Meatloaf CDs, a Kansas CD, and the last one he came across made him smile widely. It was ACDC.   
Atta girl, Dean thought to himself, rather impressed, and not going to lie, was slightly turned on by this new information.  
A pair of small pale hands reached out and took the CDs from him before reaching around to grab the Walkman and headphones. "Judge my tastes later." Claire mumbled with embarrassment as she placed the last of her belongings in her duffel and zipped it up. Throwing the bag over her shoulder, she surveyed the room one last time before nodding to John. "Okay. I'm ready."   
He nodded stiffly. "Let's go." John gestured for them to leave the room, Claire bring first to leave and John himself last.   
As they walked through the hallway towards the elevator, Dean tried to take the bag from Claire, to which she firmly shook her head. “I’ve got it.” She promised quietly with a smile. After this, no words were exchanged once again as they went downstairs this time. When they reached the lobby, Claire made a straight beeline for the front desk where Carl sat waiting for her with a smile.  
"So, Clairey. What are your plans now?" He asked her as he handed her some papers. At the use of her nickname, jealousy flared up within Dean. Only he, and Sam, called her that. Who did this man think he was, thinking he had a right to call her that? However, Dean calmed slightly when he caught Claire peeking at him with a grin on her face before she bent over to sign the forms.   
"I'm going to stay with Sam and Dean's family while my god father arranges for me to go stay with him." She said before returning the papers.   
"Ahh... Staying with the boyfriend, huh?" Carl teased her, immediately making Claire blush in embarrassment. Behind her, Sam started to laugh uncontrollably as Dean looked at the floor bashfully.   
"They're not dating." John said gruffly, glaring at the poor man behind the counter.   
Despite the response from John, Carl simply looked to Dean and winked. "Coulda fooled me." He said before printing a receipt and handing it to Claire. "There you go, hon, and good luck."  
She took the receipt and put it in a side pocket on her duffle. "Thanks, Carl."   
"Any time. Sorry again about your parents."  
"Thank you. See you around!" Claire waved good bye as she walked towards the doors. The Winchesters began to follow her out when a voice stopped Dean in his tracks.   
"Dean!"  
Turning around he saw Carl waving him over. Looking between his family and the man, Dean thought for a moment before making his way over to Carl, leaning over the counter while remaining on guard when he was motioned to come closer. "Take care of her, okay, Dean?" He told him. "She's going to need care and support I bet for the next few days."  
Dean nodded dutifully. "Yes, sir."  
The hotel worker smiled kindly at him. "Claire's told me a lot about you and your brother. I know she cares a lot about you two. You especially. You mean something to that girl, and by the looks of it, she means a heck of a lot to you too." Carl's smile grew wider as he studied Dean. "Claire's shy, but she'll come around. You might have to coax her out of it though, show that you care."  
"I don't think care is a strong enough word, sir." Dean mumbled under his breath, earning a laugh from the older man.  
“See?” He laughed. “That’s exactly what she said to me when I talked to her last time she came back from your place.” When Carl saw the pleasantly surprised and hope filled look on Dean’s face, he clapped him on the shoulder. “Keep her close, Dean. I think you two have something more than a stupid teen crush on each other.”  
At this, Dean gave him a true and genuine smile. “Thanks, Carl.”  
Carl smiled back. “No problem, kid.”  
“Dean! Let’s go!” John shouted impatiently from the front doors.  
Looking to Carl, Dean found him just smiling before nodding to the door. “Go get her.” He told Dean with a final wink before walking away.  
With a determined smile on his face, Dean ran towards his Dad and out the door, a feeling of hope and determination blazing in his heart. When he clambered into the back seat of the Impala, Claire met his gaze in the rear-view mirror, her eyes crinkling when she saw the smile on his face, a smile of her own beginning to form as they exchanged a knowing look.  
*  
The following day saw Claire staying in the Winchester’s motel room. When Sam and Dean had gotten around for school, she had simply remained in bed in a similar fashion as she had been the previous day; staring at the ceiling blindly with a mask of empty agony. No one had said anything to her in an attempt to make her move, instead choosing to allow her to lay in her silent mourning. Only before the boys left to walk on their own to school did they approach her, Sam squeezing her hand sympathetically before moving aside to make room for his brother.   
Dropping onto one knee beside the bed, Dean wordlessly put a hand to Claire’s cheek, making her turn her eyes to look at him. Silently they stared at each other, he brushed his thumb against her cheek, her eyelids fluttering shut at his soft caress. Sighing, he leaned over to kiss her forehead before getting up and leaving the motel room with Sam. The moment the door quietly clicked shut, Claire opened her eyes to look at the door before silently rolling out of the bed to land in a crouch. Straightening up, she moved to her duffle bag in the corner of the room, opened it to retrieve her beloved Walkman and CD's before returning to the bed. Then, after setting herself up, she relaxed onto her back, blanketing her worries and sadness with music while John sat on guard at the table, his journal in hand.   
*  
That afternoon the motel room door slammed loudly as Dean and Sam made their way into the room, both relieved to be back after the long school day. While they had been walking home, the brothers had come to the agreement that it was weird being there without Claire, and were sure to haul ass back home to see if she was okay. However, there she was, still lying on the bed, with John watching her from the kitchenette table. This time however, Claire had headphones covering her ears, with her Walkman and CD’s sitting next to her.   
Smiling to himself in relief to see that she was still alright, Dean kicked off his boots before making his way to her. Sam on the other hand, walked over to join his Dad at the table. “Hey, Dad.” He said, setting his bag on the table and pulling out his homework.  
“Hey, Sammy.” John said tiredly, taking a gulp from his mug of cheap hotel coffee. “How was school?”   
Knowing what his Dad really meant by asking that question, Sam kept his eyes on his work. “No one asked about Claire.”  
John nodded to himself in satisfaction as he watched his eldest son’s actions. “Good.” He muttered.  
Meanwhile, paying no attention to his Dad’s glare, Dean crawled on to the bed and then over Claire to hold himself over her as he watched her peaceful expression. Glancing once again at the headphones she wore and the CD Walkman it was connected to, he returned to simply studying her almost perfect features in quiet wonder. After a moment, Claire slowly opened her eyes to look up at him. Once she focused on his face inches above her own, she smiled.  
"Hello." She said quietly.   
Dean's face broke into a wide and gentle smile. "Hey." His voice was soft. For a while they simply stared at each other, and as cheesy as one may find it, getting lost in each other’s eyes. Had it had not been for John's glaring and their equal shyness, Claire or Dean would have kissed the other, right on their lips. For now though, they settled for gazing into the depths of their eyes.  
"What are you listening to?" Dean finally asked, nodding to her Walkman and the pile of CD'S beside it.  
“I Would do Anything for Love.” Claire replied, her voice breathy as she spoke the title, trying not to blush when she considered how close they were and the words that had just left her mouth.   
It didn’t help however when Dean smirked at the name of the song and her shyness, lowering his body slightly onto hers, pressing his forehead against her own while keeping their mouths a hairs breath away. “Oh really?” He teased, his voice low. Beneath him he could feel Claire tremble as her eyes fluttered shut. “And what would you do for love, Claire?”  
She didn’t speak at first, but when she slowly opened her eyes, she went to speak when John cut her off. “Dean, back.” He barked.  
Rolling his eyes, Dean pecked Claire’s nose before sitting back lightly on her legs, Claire herself following him up as though attached to him by a string or magnet. Picking up the CD on top of the pile, Dean eyed the artful cover. “Bat Out of Hell two, Back into Hell.” He read aloud, studying the strange figure on the motorbike in the picture. “Who would want to go back to Hell after breaking out of it?” He snorted.  
Getting up from propping herself up by her elbows, Claire sat up to take the CD case from him. “I dunno, forgot his house keys, maybe?” She asked cheekily.  
“You think there really is a hell?” Dean’s seriousness caught her off guard, making her look at him startled.  
"I-I, I don’t know.” Claire stuttered. “I suppose so, Bobby’s seen demons before, and they have to come from somewhere. And with all of the stuff out there that we face, I guess so. But I’d like to think that Heaven exists as well.” She whispered the last part.  
“Yeah…” He agreed.  
“It’d be nice if there was no hell below us, above us only sky.”   
Eyes flashing up to look at her, Dean’s mouth twisted ruefully. “My Mom liked the Beatles.” He said.  
“That was John Lennon.” Claire responded.  
“Yeah, but he was a Beatle.” He threw back.  
“Fair enough.” She shrugged. “My Mum cried apparently for days when he was killed.”   
“Big fan, huh?” Dean lifted his hands to absentmindedly play with her curls.  
“Yup.”  
“My Mom would sing me Hey Jude when I was little, it was her favorite song.” He looked to the CD player absentmindedly.   
Studying him as took her headphones off to hang them around her neck, Claire thought for a moment before taking a CD hidden at the bottom of her pile to hand it to him with trembling hands. "My lullaby was Carry on My Wayward Son."   
Biting back a but you're not a guy; Dean studied the obviously well-loved CD. "I'm guessing you haven't listened to it since..." He couldn't bring himself to say since you found out about your parents.   
Her head bowed low, she shook her head. "I don't know if I could now." Claire whispered.   
Sighing, Dean got off her legs to lift her onto his lap and to pull her into his chest. Immediately Claire wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms going to wrap themselves around his neck, relishing in the comfort he gave her. Slowing twisting a curl around his finger, Dean buried his face in her neck. "You should try; you gotta be brave for them." Pulling back, he put a hand against her cheek. "Look, forget the hunting. Screw that and the problem we've got right now. You just have to keep your head up and plow through all of this crap. We'll figure this out together, but right now you need to keep it together. Not just for my sake, but for yours too. I might not have met your parents, but I know that they'd want you to be brave." Here he stopped to take a breath and to smile reassuringly at her. "So I say we kick it in the ass and keep goin together, okay?"  
All Claire could do for a minute was stare at him with wide eyes before nodding and throwing herself back at Dean, her arms tightening around him. He laughed at her response as brought his hands back around her body to press his hands against her upper and lower back, keeping her close to him as possible. "Thank you." She whispered into his ear.  
Dean was about to respond when he was cut off, making him roll his eyes.   
“Cummon, we got work to do.” John called, his chair scraping against the floor as he got up.  
Pulling away, Claire looked from Dean to John in confusion. “What are we doing?” She asked in confusion.  
Grabbing his journal, John said “We’re goin to go see what you got.”  
“Dad…” Dean began to protest.  
“And it’ll give you boys a chance to practise again.” John said. “We’re going, and that’s final. So get ready.”  
“Yes, sir.” Claire said. At her response, Dean gave her a bewildered expression, surprised at her obedient response. When she saw the shocked look on his face, she placed her hands on his cheeks before leaning into whisper in his ear. “You’re not the only one who was raised to be Daddy’s little soldier.” She told him before pecking his cheek. Slipping her legs out from around him, Claire got off the bed to grab a change of clothes from her duffle before making her way into the bathroom, leaving a shocked Dean behind.  
*  
It was after an hour of driving out of Portland that they finally reached a beaten up drive off the main road that lead to a decent sized clearing. It was far from any prying eyes, and far from anywhere anyone would call the cops about hearing gunshots. The moment the car was parked, its occupants got out and made their way to the trunk. Popping the lid, John grabbed a bag of cans and bottles and a riffle before making his way to a fallen log across the field to set up the targets. Standing back, Claire watched as her two friends grabbed their weapons of choice and began their check overs. As she watched, she noticed that while Dean’s movements and attitude were very sharp and focused as he prepped his gun, Sam’s was more slow and unwilling. Looking at him curiously, she walked around Dean to join Sam’s side.  
“What’s wrong, Sammy?” She asked him quietly, sitting on the Impala’s bumper.   
Looking up at her cautiously, Sam stopped fiddling with his gun and sighed. “I don’t really like doing this.” He admitted, surprise filling his face when Claire gave him a sympathetic smile.  
“Not quite your cup of tea, is it?” She said.  
Sam smiled slightly and shook his head. “No, not really.”  
He laughed when a hand came up to ruffle his shaggy hair playfully. “Don’t blame you.” Claire agreed. “I hate it.”  
Pushing away her hand, he looked at her curiously. “How long you been hunting?”  
“All my life. The moment I could walk I was trained to survive.” She shrugged. Although her words were nonchalant, the look on her face showed her disdain for the job. “I was seven when I went on my first hunt.”  
“Seven!?!” Sam repeated in shock. Even Dean, who had been silently listening in on the conversation raised his eyebrows in shock. “I was eight when I found out about the stuff out there.”   
“Mmmhhh, I always knew. No, it wasn’t Cinderella and Snow White for me; it was lore and myth books I read.” Claire continued. “Mum had me read those silly stories so I wouldn't feel left out at school and make it feel like I had a bit of a childhood, but it was mostly studying creatures, how do you kill them. That sort of thing. No toys either, it was weapons training. Even with small hands, my Dad made sure I was able to use them and fend for myself, with or without a gun.”  
“Sounds like your parents did things right with you.” John claimed as he joined them and began prepping his own weapons.  
She shrugged at the compliment. “Doesn’t mean I never came out of a hunt without some sort of mark or something broken.”  
“No one does.” He told her.  
“Don’t have to tell me that.”   
“Your family’s gear is there,” John pointed to the bag in the corner of the trunk. “Set up and let’s see how well your folks did training you.”  
Silently, Claire hopped off of the bumper and opened the familiar weapons duffle, immediately finding her claimed gun of choice. From the corner of her eye, she could see John and Dean nodding in approval as they saw her black Colt in hand. Doing a quick once over, she nodded to herself before locking and loading it, turning to John when she was ready.  
“Got the same as I do.” He told her, holding up his chrome plated Colt.  
“American soldier and hunter left it to me back in England.” She said, looking to the targets set up in the distance.  
Taking note of her readiness, John followed her gaze to the outfield and pointed to the cans and bottles. “First we can test your hand at a gun before we try hand to hand.”  
Nodding in understanding, Claire squinted her eyes before looking back to John. “Mind if I try from here?”   
Everyone looked at her in surprise. “Think you can hit it from here?” He asked her in surprise.  
“I know so.” She nodded.  
“Suit yourself.”   
The three Winchesters gave Claire her space as she aligned and readied herself. Lifting her gun, she didn’t even take a breath before pulling the trigger. The bang echoed in the small clearing as her shot met its mark in the direct center of a water bottle John had set up, sending it flying off the log.  
“Whoah.” Sam breathed in amazement, his eyes wide.  
“Damn.” Dean said in appreciation, bringing his gaze back from the targets and on to Claire. Who knew sweet, quiet Claire was a badass with deadly aim. To be honest, it was pretty hot to him. The thought made him smirk as Claire caught his appraisal and winked at him, making him wink back.   
“Nice shot.” John commented before walking away. “Let’s go, boys. You guys haven't been practicing lately.”  
With a sigh, Sam grabbed his stuff before scampering off after him while Dean joined Claire at her side and slung an arm over her shoulder. “I have to say,” He said still smirking. “That was kinda hot.”   
Looking up at him, she too smirked and played along. “Only kinda? Damn, gotta try harder.” She delivered just as smoothly.  
“Effort’s appreciated.” He told her as they walked to join the others.  
“I’ll remember that.” Claire promised.  
*  
After a grueling two hours, as the sun was starting to set, John called for them to stop and to come to where we stood. When all three teenagers stood before him, he began to explain what they were to do next.   
“Sam, Dean, I want you two over there. Claire, I’m going to throw you a couple of hits, see what you do.”  
The words alone were somewhat worrying to Dean, but seeing Claire accept his order without a word was actually terrifying. “What? Dad, cummon! Let me or Sam go against her!” He protested. Looking between his father’s built 6’1 frame and Claire’s much smaller and slender figure, he worried more so for Claire’s physical safety rather than his father’s.  
“No. I don’t want it being you or Sam if she does whatever she did to me back at the motel.” John told him.   
“Don’t worry about me, Dean.” Claire reassured him with a smile. “I might be 5’5, but I can take care of myself in a fight.”  
At this, Dean could only sink despairingly into grass next to his brother. “She’ll be okay, Dean.” Sam reassured him.  
He was about to open his mouth to answer his brother when their Dad through a punch at Claire’s head and her hand flew up to meet it. Quickly taking a hold of his fist, Claire stepped forward and followed through, throwing John to the ground behind her as she whirled around, both of her hands now free and in fists of their own, up for defense as she watched the sprawled out man.   
“Whoah.” Both Sam and Dean said lowly in shock.  
Laughing on the ground, John got up and brushed himself off. “Good,” He said. “Go again.”  
It was after an hour that John deemed it safe, albeit unwillingly, for Dean to practice against Claire. He knew his son was tough as nails though, the only thing that worried him was that Dean would be to love-struck to land an actual hit on her. “Let’s go, Sam.” He told the youngest Winchester, watching his oldest son as they gave the other two a respectable amount of space for sparring.  
The moment they had enough space, Claire began to slowly circle around Dean in an almost predatory way. As she walked around him, he watched her with a smirk. “Did you have to change?” He said, referring to the dress she had been wearing at the motel and the white tank top and brown corduroy pants she wore now. “Would have been a nice a nice view.”   
She gave him a wicked smile in return. “Well next time if you ask nicely…” She suggested.  
His green eyes went wide at this. “You know, you’re completely different when-” Dean never got the sentence completely out when he was sent tumbling as Claire tackled him to the ground. As he lay on the ground stunned, Claire, who sat on top of him, leaned forward to whisper in his ear.  
“That’s just the adrenaline talking, sweetie.” She told him, her warm breath teasing his ear.  
Somehow through the haze Dean managed to regain control of his senses and grab Claire by her wrists and flip their positions. “Still like you no matter what, honey.” He teased right back, dragging his lips across her cheek, and slowly towards her own lips. Beneath him he could feel her chest rise and fall quickly from her short breaths, making him smile as he held her arms above her head.   
This small distraction proved to be enough though as Claire bucked her hips upwards, making Dean fall forward enough to let her flip their positions once more. With her hair hanging over her left shoulder as she looked down at him, Claire smiled sweetly at him like her normal, shy self. “The effort was appreciated, but nice try, babe.” She told him.  
Looking up at her in complete adoration, once her words registered in his mind, he smirked again. “Oh sugar we’re only getting started.” He said, his voice making her shiver above him before he sent them tumbling once more.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

“It’s Dean’s birthday this weekend.”   
Claire snapped her head to look at Sam as they sat next to the fence like they did every day, except this time without Dean as he had been called to the office before lunch. The blade of grass she had held between her thumb and forefinger fluttered to the ground as she met his gaze.   
"It is?"  
Sam nodded. "This Saturday." He confirmed.   
"Oh." She sat back and looked away as she mulled over ideas in her mind. "So, what are we going to do?"  
"You want to do something for him?" He looked at her in bewilderment.   
This made her laugh. "Well of course I do! Why wouldn't I?"  
Nodding in agreement, Sam looked at her mischievously. "It’s because you like him, isn't it?"  
Instantly Claire's cheeks went rosy. "Saaaam..." She whined in protest.   
"Oh come on! What was all of that on Tuesday night when you two were fighting? Or any other time you to have been together since you've met?" Sam pressed on. "You gotta have some sort of feelings for Dean."  
"Well I don't think your Dad would let me give Dean a birthday kiss, now would he?" Claire uncharacteristically snapped back.  
Now it was his turn to sit back, except an ever growing grin on his face. "Would you actually do that?"  
Realising what she had said, Claire snapped her mouth shut before she gave Sam a dirty look. "Shut up." She mumbled.   
"No, I'm serious. Would you actually do that?"   
Her eyes were downcast as she looked down and plucked another blade of grass from the ground before sighing. "Yes... I mean, you know how many times I've been teased-"  
"Or you've teased him?" Sam interjected.   
"I dunno, Sammy..." She said quietly. "I've never felt this way before, as stupid as that sounds. I mean, the moment I saw him... I felt drawn to him. After eighteen years, you'd think I'd have made some sort of connection with someone, even with all the moving around. God," Claire chuckled. "It's like one of those stupid teen movies where they see each other and it’s an instant connection, like soul mates or some sort of stupid thing like that. Oh, and that's great! Now I'm rambling!" She stopped to look at Sam. "I'm sorry."  
He offered her a smile. "It's okay, I think I get it."  
"Well I'm glad one of us do." She grumbled, twisting the silver ring on her right hand. "I just don't know, Sam. As crazy as it is, somehow I think I'm in love with your brother." At this she laughed. "Hell, I don't even think that begins to describe it."  
There was silence between them before anything was said again.   
"Pie." Sam said.  
Claire looked up at him oddly. "Sorry?" She asked.  
"You want the key to Dean's heart, make him pie, not that you need it, I think you've already gotten him to fall for you." He clarified.   
The side comment made Claire blush once more, but she thought it over. "Pie..." She repeated slowly. "Any particular kind?"   
"No," Sam shook his head. "As long as it's pie, you're good. And if it's coming from you, even better."  
Nodding in understanding, she smiled. "Alright then, pie." She agreed. “I’ll bake a pie for his birthday.”  
"You know, cake is more traditional." He hinted.  
Claire gave him a playful shove against his shoulder. "Nice try, Sammy." She told him. "I'm making pie."  
"Hey, what's going on?" Dean called as he joined them.   
"Nothin." Sam smiled mysteriously, looking between the two eighteen year olds.   
Claire stuck her tongue out at him before leaning against Dean as he sat down beside her. Right away he smiled down at her as he wrapped his arm around her to pull her in closer. "Yeah, okay." Dean laughed. "Like I'm going to believe that."  
"I'd expect nothing less." Claire patted him on the shoulder as she leaned up to kiss him on the cheek.   
*  
When the bell rang signalling the end of the school day, Sam, Dean and Claire met up on the front steps of the school as per usual. However, when the Impala came rolling up in the parking lot, Claire turned to Dean.  
"Could you wait here for a moment, Dean?" She asked him, smiling up at him slightly.  
This didn't smooth over the worry that quickly built up within him. "Why? Is everything okay?" He asked, putting a hand to her cheek.   
Claire smiled wider up at him. "Sam and I have to talk to your Dad."  
This confused Dean even further. "Why? Is everything okay?"  
"It's fine, Dean, don't worry." She laughed.  
"Okay..." He obviously wasn’t convinced, making Claire laugh again.  
Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed him on the cheek before turning to Sam. “Cummon, Sammy.” She said to him, grabbing his hand.  
Together the two ran down the steps and across the small drive in front of the school and towards the Impala. Seeing the two run towards him, John rolled the window down. “What is it?” He asked sullenly. “And why did you leave Dean behind?”  
“Dad, you know how it’s Dean’s birthday this Saturday?” Sam said breathlessly.  
“Yeah, why?” John replied.  
“We want to do something for him.” Claire answered this time.   
Looking between the two, and rather untrustworthy at Claire, John sighed. “What did you kids have in mind?”  
“Pie.” Was Claire’s response.  
“I dunno, something.” Came Sam’s suggestion.  
“Tryin’ to win over Dean with pie, huh?” John smirked. “I think you already have him under your spell far enough, young lady.”   
Despite the shot fired at her, Claire remained silent and impassive, leaving Sam to answer for them. “Please, Dad? We don’t have to do anything huge, but we have to at least do something for him.”   
Mulling the idea over, John finally nodded, letting Claire and Sam relax. “Alright, we’ll get whatever you need for that pie on the way home tomorrow.”  
“Thanks, Mr. Winchester.” Claire said sincerely.   
“Yeah.” Was the only answer she got before she moved around the rumbling car to get into the passenger seat.  
“Hey, Dean! Cummon!” Sam called to his older brother.  
Quickly running over to the Impala, Dean looked at Sam before getting in. “Everything good?” He searched his brother’s face for any misgivings.  
Sam however only smiled. “Yup. We’re all good.”  
*  
True to his word, the following afternoon John stopped on their way back to the motel alongside a small grocery market. Turning in his seat to look back at his sons, he said “Alright, Claire and I are goin in to grab a couple of things; we’ll be back in a minute.”  
With that, he and Claire got out of the car and made their way into the store. In the backseat, Dean looked at Sam in confusion. “What are they doing?” He asked.  
“They went into a place that sells food. I dunno, maybe they went to get food?” Sam said sarcastically.  
“Whatever.” Dean mumbled leaning his hand back and closing his eyes.  
It was after 10 minutes that John and Claire had walked out of the store, two plastic shopping bags in Claire’s left hand, and a small paper bag in her right. Once they were both in the car and the pulled away from the store, Dean leaned forward towards Claire.  
“What did you get?” He asked.  
“Stuff.” Was the only word he got as a reply.   
The car was once again silent inside as they sped down the road.  
*  
“Dean! Dean, wake up!” Sam’s excited whispers along with the poking in his back tore Dean away from his comfortable slumber. Cracking his eyes open, Dean saw Claire still sleeping peacefully, her head tucked under his chin and rest on his chest while one of her hands clutched his shirt. He smiled down at her before another poke sent him rocking.  
“Knock it off, Sam.” Dean turned his head to look at his smiling little brother. “You’re going to wake Claire up.”  
“Get up!” Sam ignored the warnings and stepped back. “Dad’s letting us go out into town for the day!”   
“Seriously?” Dean looked at him in surprise before looking to his Dad, who was sitting at the kitchen table, holding up the keys to the Impala. “Awesome.” Finally after almost a week of sitting in the motel room basically doing nothing while being under his Dad’s constant supervision, getting out and doing something that wasn’t a part of the normal routine would be awesome. Not to mention normal; besides, how many opportunities did they have like this on the Hunts their Dad went on. Moving his hands, he was about to wake Claire up to tell her of the day’s plan when the sentence that ruined the idea of the entire day was delivered.  
“Don’t bother waking her up, Dean. She’s not going with you.” John told him.  
Dean looked at him unhappily. “What? Why not?” Looking at the guilty look on Sam’s face, he could tell that Sam had known about this detail from the beginning.  
“I need her here.” Was all his Dad reasoned.  
“Well then I don’t wanna go then.” Dean said defiantly.  
“Go, Dean.” A sleepy voice said below him. His green eyes looked down to meet a pair of sleepy but determined hazel eyes. Rolling over so that she lay on her stomach, Claire propped her chin on his chest as she looked up at him. “I have things I need to take care of here. It’s not that I don’t want to spend the day with you and Sam, but I have work to do. Trust me,” She smiled at him. “You’ll thank me when you come back.”  
Dean’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times as they looked each other in the eye, but finally, he relented. “Okay…”   
“There you go.” Claire patted his cheek softly before getting out of the bed.   
Each of the teenagers took their turns getting ready for the day in the bathroom, and in no time, it was time to part their ways for the time being. At the door, John handed Dean a small pile of bills and the keys to the Impala. “Money for whatever you boys feel like doing while you’re out there, but that’s it. So don’t come back lookin for more if you run out, and I want whatever is left after. I also want you back by four.” He told him.  
“Right.” Dean agreed.  
On the side, Claire handed Sam his coat and gave him a hug once he was ready. “Make sure he has fun, Sammy.” She whispered into his ear.  
“Don’t worry, I will.” He promised, smiling when they pulled away.   
As Claire stepped back from him, she promptly grabbed around the waist and spun around. She squealed as the movement caught her off guard, but Dean kept his grip on her as he brought her into his embrace. “Whoah there, sweetheart.” He teased her, kissing the top of her head.  
Laughing, Claire slapped him in the chest before relaxing in his arms. “Get going, silly.” She told him before they broke apart.  
“Aww cummon! No goodbye kiss?” Dean said with a look of mock hurt.   
“Oh I’ll give you a good bye something alright.” She raised an eyebrow at him along with a tiny fist. Seeing the look of disappointment on his face, she laughed. “Go!”   
“Let’s go, Dean!” Sam encouraged him, opening the door and pulling him by the sleeve. “See you guys later!” He called behind them before the door swung shut.  
After that, John and Claire stood silently in place, listening for the rumble of the Impala as it started up before it faded away. Looking to each other, Claire gave him a bright smile. “Right then!” She chirped. “Let’s get to work!”  
*  
The moment the hands struck four in the afternoon, Sam and Dean walked through the motel room door laughing hard, turning the room’s occupant’s heads from their respective locations and books.  
“Four on the dot.” John noted, checking his watch. “Cuttin it close there, boys.”  
“Sorry, we lost track of time.” Sam said, smiling widely.  
“Had that much fun, did you?” John smiled slightly.   
“Hell yeah.” Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder. “You guys should have been there.”  
“What did you two end up doing?” Claire peeked over the edge of her book.  
“We went bowling, to an arcade and then out for pizza.” Sam told her, flopping on to his bed.  
“Sounds like fun.” She noted, returning to her book.  
“It was.” He nodded in agreement.  
The room lapsed into silence before it was almost as always broken very quickly. "What are you reading?" Dean asked, staring at the cover of the book that hid Claire's face from view.   
"New book."  
Dean shook his head with a smirk before trying again. "I can see that, what is it?" He tried again, studying the boy and scarlet train on the cover.   
"You can read." She replied as she turned the page.   
"Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone." He read aloud.   
Claire raised her gaze from the book to offer him a fake smile. "Awwww, see? I told you that you could do it."   
Rolling his eyes, Dean sat next to her on the sofa, pressing himself close into her side as he rested his chin on her shoulder and read some of the print. Despite feeling the weight of his father's stare on his shoulder, he refused to move. "Never heard of it."   
"It hasn't been published here in the states yet." She explained, moving the book so he could see better.   
"What's it about?" He asked.  
"An orphan boy learns he's a wizard and goes to a school for magic." Claire tilted her head to the side slightly, letting it rest comfortably on Dean's.   
"Any monsters?"   
"Well, the bankers are trolls..." She said, a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth when Dean snorted in amusement. "I suppose there are, I haven't gotten that far yet."  
"Why read that when we face all that freaky kind of crap every day of our lives..." Dean pressed on curiously.   
"Oh my god, Dean!" Claire exclaimed, bolting upright and off the couch to stand in front of him with her hands on her hips. Dean fell back after her sudden movement away from him, smiling wickedly at her in amusement. "Because it’s none of the stuff we have to put up with! It's a kid’s story where they're taught magic, potions, all of that stuff by witches and wizards, not hoodoo priests teaching them weird mojo! It's just a kid’s story!"  
Her words made him look at her strangely, a smirk immediately setting into place. "Hoodoo priests? Mojo?" He asked incredulously.   
At that Claire's mouth snapped shut, her expression immediately becoming flustered. "Shut up." She mumbled, looking to the side as she tried to hide her growing blush.   
"Hoodoo priests..." Dean repeated, the sly smirk growing. "And mojo." Claire remained silent as he taunted her before he reached forward to grab her around the waist and pulled her down into his lap.  
She shrieked in surprise as she fell into him, laughing as she made a weak attempt to break free. "Dean!" She protested as he held her prisoner in his arms.   
"Mojo, huh?" He asked, resting his chin comfortably on her shoulder, pressing the side of his face against hers.   
"Shut up." She mumbled shyly, relaxing into him.   
"Not a chance." Dean laughed, inhaling her scent with a smile on his face. They sat like that for some time in comfortable silence before Claire gave a gasp as she remembered something, making Dean have to loosen his grip around her waist as she turned around to straddle his lap and face him.   
With a soft grin, she placed her hands on either side of his face. "Close your eyes." She whispered.  
A smile of his own spreading across his face, Dean obediently closed his eyes, waiting patiently despite his Hunter instincts kicking in. In his lap and hands, he felt Claire's weight shift as she removed her hands from his face, and leaned forward, her soft forehead resting against his, her warm breath caressing his lips as she got closer. It surprised Dean though when he felt Claire's dominant hand reach around and behind him to slip her hand between the couch cushions to grab something. For only a moment he felt a butterfly's touch on his lips before Claire moved away, settling on his lap.   
"Okay." She gave him the word. Immediately Dean opened his eyes, the sight of Claire sitting in front of him with the small paper bag from yesterday clutched in her small hands. "Happy birthday." She greeted quietly, bringing the bag up towards him by an inch.   
This made him look at her blankly in surprise. January 24. Today was his birthday wasn’t it? Looking at her kind and hopeful expression, he took the bag into his own hands, smiling at her in return. “How did you-” He began before being cut off.  
“Sam told me.” Claire folded her hands together and twiddled her thumbs nervously. “I’m sorry it’s not much… But I didn’t really have much of a choice…”  
Her voice trailed off as he opened the small bag and peered inside. Studying the contents, a soft smile touched his lips he studied the small gifts. Reaching in, he took out the two simple black bracelets, the leather straps knotted in the loops. As simple as they were, Claire managed to pick something that he could wear that didn't get in the way on a job and matched his own style. However, there was one other bracelet at the bottom of the bag. Grinning widely, he took it out and immediately slipped it onto his left wrist. "Awesome!" He cheered quietly in awe, studying the skull beads with wide curious eyes.   
"Really?" Claire asked cautiously.  
"Yeah." Dean slipped the two other bracelets on to his right wrist before giving her a blinding smile and throwing his arms around her frame to pull her into his chest. "I love it, Clairey." In reality, it was true. After his mom had passed, he didn't really have or get much growing up. So the fact that Claire actually took the time to find something, no matter what was available, it showed she genuinely cared. "Thank you." He said sincerely.  
"You're welcome." Came the muffled reply from where Claire had buried her face in the crook of Dean's neck, making him laugh lowly.   
"Hey," He pulled her back so he could push her hair out of her face. "I mean it. Thank you, I love them." This made her blush a bright red as she bit her lip and smiled slightly, looking away bashfully. Dean smiled at her shyness, and removing a hand from her waist to gently grasp her chin and guide her face to face his once again. Then putting his left hand on her left cheek, he leaned forward to whisper in her right ear. "Thank you." He repeated before press in his lips to her cheek in a kiss. He kept his lips there though, feeling the warmth of her increasing blush beneath his hand and lips. A smile tugged at his lips as he considered the effect he had on her, and even though she had the exact same effect on him, it still made him smug to know what he could do.   
"Dean..." His father called to him gruffly, probably not happy about the position the two teens were in.   
Pulling away slightly, Dean moved his hand back to grip Claire's hips, who remained still, not daring to move. Then, ever so slowly, he ducked his head down slightly, the tip of his nose trailing down her cheek until he stopped to press his mouth now to the corner of her’s. In his ear, Dean could feel the whisper of Claire's shallow breathing, making him smirk again, quite enjoying the position he had her in. She was so much different in his hands from the independent person he knew, and the fierce fighter he had come to learn she was; but in his hold, she became instant putty, and he treated her like glass. Dean knew Claire was far from fragile, but from the moment he saw her, he had to admit he had fallen in love with her, and even more so each moment he was with and got to know her.   
He was about to move the few centimeters it would have taken for him to be kissing her squarely on the mouth, but as fate always had it, also known as Dad, had other ideas. "Claire, didn't you have something else for Dean?" John called.  
Sighing, Dean pulled away a fraction so he could rest his forehead against Claire's, her warm pants warming his mouth instead of her mouth over his, which is what he would have preferred instead. "Friggin' old cock blocker.” He whispered, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration.   
Laughing shakily, Claire put her hands on either side of his face, and kissing his forehead, got off of his lap and moved to the kitchenette. "From all of us." She corrected John as she grabbed a pair of oven mitts.  
On the couch, Dean twisted in his seat to watch her in confusion. "What do you mean?" He asked.  
"Table, Dean." His father simply instructed.  
Shrugging, Dean did as he was told, and when Claire saw he was seated, she opened the small oven door to pull out a homemade pie. At the sight of it, his mouth went slack and fell open as she placed it in front of him. Joining Claire at her side, Sam leaned over to stick a single white candle in the centre of the pie, which John then lit with his lighter.   
"Happy birthday, son." John said, finally smiling after all the glaring he had done for the last week.   
Looking up at his Dad with an expression of that of a young child, he then looked to Sam who was smiling happily at him, and then to Claire who was smiling gently in a way that melted his heart. "You guys did this all for me?" He finally managed out in disbelief.  
"I was thinking of doing something for you anyways, but when I mentioned your birthday to Claire, she planned some of it with Dad's help. I tried to convince her to make a cake but she said you'd like a pie better." Sam explained excitedly.   
"I'll make a cake when it’s your birthday, kiddo." Claire laughed, ruffling his hair and making him laugh as well.   
So that's what all of that had been for, going bowling and to the arcade, the pizza, the small gift, and now a pie; all a surprise for his birthday. While some may look at his not much, to Dean it was more than he could ask for. Smiling at them, he croaked out "Thank you."   
Claire placed her hands on his shoulders to rub them soothingly as she saw the threatening tears. "You should probably make a wish before the candle burns out." She whispered into his ear.  
Staring at the flame for a moment, it did not take long for Dean to decide on a wish. As selfish as it was, that's what he decided on. Just before he blew out the candle, there was a flash and a click as Claire took a picture of the three Winchesters at the table, having had moved from Dean's side to the other side of the table. She smiled at them when they all looked at her oddly before shrugging. "Smile." Was all she said, prepping the camera for another photo. Immediately Sam moved to wrap his arms around Dean's neck, pressing his cheek against his and smiling at Claire, making Dean laugh at his little brother's eagerness.   
It surprised him when he felt another, more muscular arm wrap around his shoulder on his other side. Looking to his left, Dean saw John smile slightly at him. "Cummon, let's get this picture done." He said. Smiling almost like a fool now, Dean turned to look at the camera with his brother and Dad on either side of him.   
Snapping the picture, Claire held up a finger as she prepared the camera once more. "Hang on a minute." She said before snapping another picture, fixing the camera, and taking one more before lowering the device. "Figured you might all want a copy." She explained.  
John nodded in understanding, and with a final squeeze of Dean's shoulders, moved to take the camera from her. "Let me get one of you three." He offered.   
Claire look stunned for a moment before smiling widely at him and passing the camera over. "Thank you, Mr. Winchester." She thanked him before skipping her way to stand behind Dean. There she leaned forward and encircled her arms around his shoulders, leaning her head against his. Sam, who had moved from his original position, moved to kneel next to Dean's left leg.   
Standing off to the side so they wouldn't be blocked by the table in the picture, John turned the camera so that it took a portrait shot so it could encompass all three teens in the shot. "Smile." He told them, which they did, remaining in their positions long enough for him to take three pictures, just as Claire taken.  
When he set the camera down on the table, Sam, Dean and Claire all laughed happily, Sam taking a seat next to his brother while Claire kissed Dean's cheek and then moved to get plates and silverware. Quickly blowing out the candle, he earned a small course of applause before Claire slipped between the two brothers, cutting into the pie and quickly and skilfully set them on plates and giving one to each of the Winchesters, Dean getting the largest helping of all. "That's my girl." He claimed happily grabbing her around the waist with one arm to give her a quick but tight hug, making her giggle delightedly, before digging into his slice eagerly. The moment he forked a piece of pie into his mouth, Dean's eyes slid shut as his frame relaxed in awe. This pie was friggin amazing, tops the best he had ever had since his mother's pie so long ago. As the crystalized cinnamon melted on his tongue, he moaned happily. "Claire Shanahan, I could kiss you." He declared.   
"You're certainly welcome to try." Claire teased him, patting his head fondly as she walked past to clean up the small mess.   
"This is so good." Dean hummed as he shovelled in another mouthful. At the table, Sam and John nodded in agreement as they too ate their pie, making Claire smile slightly in satisfaction before she set to work on cleaning the dishes.   
*  
Later that night, after everything was cleaned up, and Dean and John were the only ones who hadn't fallen asleep, Dean went to grab his sweats and old shirt for bed when he stopped next to his occupied bed. Looking down at Claire who lie flat on her back, an arm outstretched towards where Dean himself would soon lie, and her other arm up around head, he smiled happily at her sleeping form. All of that effort she put into today just to make him happy seemed to have drained her by the end of the night. Chuckling lowly to himself, he bent over to press a quick and soft kiss to her lips, chuckling again as Claire hummed in her sleep as he pulled away, her back arching slightly before she rolled over and into a ball, facing his side of the bed. Shaking his head with a smile, Dean walked away towards the bathroom, the taste of vanilla lingering on his lips.   
In the bed, Claire slowly opened her eyes, bringing her trembling fingertips to touch her lips, a slight smile forming as she tasted the apples and cinnamon that had clung to Dean breath from the pie.   
Dean had kissed her.   
It wasn't that they hadn't kissed each other before, but never was it on the mouth. Well, straight on the mouth anyways.  
But he had just done it.  
Dean had kissed her on the mouth.   
Keeping her breathing under control, Claire smiled like an idiot to herself in the dark. When Dean finally returned, she feigned sleep once more, snuggling into Dean as she normally did regardless of whether she was awake or asleep. Above her she heard him laugh quietly before he gently tucked her body closer to his as he held her before kissing the top of her head and settling himself. Mentally, she smiled as she clutched his shirt as that single thought continuously looped in her head.   
Dean Winchester had kissed her.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The following Monday morning after Dean's birthday, Claire had been brought to the school's main office once more where it was announced she was approved to stay with Bobby in Sioux Falls. And as she was eighteen, the choice to go was entirely up to her. Despite this, Claire chose to go stay with her "Uncle Bobby”, as there was nothing left here for her in Portland. So it was decided, Claire, along with Sam and Dean, would finish the last week in the month before packing up and putting the town in the Impala's rear view mirror.  
As settling as it was for Claire to have affairs settled, what didn't sit well with her was that she would soon have to say goodbye to the boys. She was well aware that John Winchester was more than eager to get her off his hands and somewhere she could be under constant watch; although there was a better chance of her seeing Sam and Dean again if she were with Bobby. Mind you, John was still convinced she might hurt them, even unintentionally, and still did not trust her. While one would think that after the training session they had last Tuesday, and then again all day Sunday, a small amount of faith would have been established. Except Claire agreed with Sam and Dean's father, she didn't know what she could do now, and although when she had thrown John across the room that night by accident, she was terrified she would end up doing the same thing to anyone, especially Sam and Dean.  
Claire however wasn't the only one who wasn't looking forward to the weekend. The brothers were also dreading their departure from Portland, and then the separation from their friend. Sam could see how the idea of separation was taking its toll on Claire and Dean, and it bugged him. The two of them were continuing to dangerously dance around their affections for each other, and it was only because of his Dad that they didn't teeter over the edge and act on their feelings. Like Claire, Sam had been feigning sleep that night after they had celebrated Dean's birthday, and he had seen his brother kiss their friend. He also saw the giddy look of euphoria on her face when Dean had left the room. From that point on, the caresses and kisses anywhere else but on the mouth had increased, as well as the longing that they both tried to hide in their eyes.   
So it was on the lunch break on the Wednesday of their final week that Sam decided to interfere and "help" Claire get payback while absolutely torturing Dean.   
Despite all three agreeing it was a stupid game, they had taken up playing the game Truth or Dare when they were together at school. As well as they had gotten to know each other over the past month, they had decided on learning all they could about each other while they had the opportunity. The game had on several occasions made them burst into fits of laughter at the things they had admitted and on the rare occasion dared each other to do, but never anything they would consider overly major. Claire had dared Sam to eat a pine needle, Sam dared Dean to do the Macarena while maintaining eye contact with Claire, and Dean had dared Claire to do a cartwheel. For the last dare, she had even followed through on it despite being in a dress, much to the delight of Dean, although the fact that she had been wearing brown tights underneath the ivory lace somewhat ruined the idea, it was still worth it. All the dares were silly little ideas until after a truth from Sam about the family's origins in Hunting did he take it the game a step further.   
"Truth or dare?" Sam turned to Claire.   
"Dare." Claire answered with a wide grin.   
This made Dean whistle. "Better make this one count, Sammy." He advised, rubbing his hands together eagerly.   
Oh, I will. Sam thought to himself before pointing to Dean. "I dare you to kiss Dean." He said, smirking when Claire's eyes widened and her cheeks glowed with embarrassment. "Plus it has to be on the mouth."  
"Alright!" Dean pumped his fist in the air, trying to hide the jittery butterflies that were his nerves that thrummed within him.   
"Except you can't kiss her back." Sam pointed at Dean.  
His face immediately fell at this detail. "What!?! Aww cummon, Sammy!" He protested. "That's not fair!"  
"Is so! When you kissed after she had gone to bed on your birthday, she had to pretend to sleep when you did that. I saw her when you left. Consider it payback." Sam told him.  
Claire continued to blush a vibrant red when Sam had essentially ratted her out about that small detail from Dean's birthday. However, although she appreciated the effort he was putting into pushing his brother and her together, she couldn't bear to look at Dean now that he knew she had been awake that night, opting instead to hide behind her hair.   
Meanwhile Dean could only stare at his brother in shock before slowly turned to look at Claire, her face hidden behind a curtain of her loose curls. She had really been awake when he kissed her thinking she was asleep? Crap. Well... They always said karma was a bitch, so if he had to suffer just like Claire had...  
"Okay." He shrugged, trying to appear carefree. At this, Claire's head immediately snapped up to look at him in disbelief. He was actually letting this happen. Putting his hands on the ground behind him as he leaned back, Dean winked at her. "Let's get this show on the road."  
"Umm... Okay." Was all Claire stuttered before looking down to the ground for a moment to compose herself. Then with an expression of set determination, got to her feet and walked towards Dean, putting a foot on either side on his legs that were stretched out before him and lowering herself on to her knees then on to her haunches. When she was organised on his lap as she pleased, which was straddling his lap, Claire took one more breath before shyly looking up into Dean's eyes. His green orbs seemed to be captivated, held in awe as he studied her closely, following her every deliberate move, refusing to move himself as much as he ached to do so. Then, placing her hands on either side of his face, she glanced down slightly before closing her eyes and pressing her lips ever so softly to his. Dean's eyes were quick to slide shut as well when their lips met, his breathing deep and slow while his heart beat was erratic. Damn his brother for ruling that he couldn't kiss her back, but he had to thank the little devil for the clever plan. Sam didn't miss much, and for once Dean was thankful.  
Although he couldn't move his mouth so that instead of just having their lips pressed together they could move in synchronisation, he sat up a little straighter, lifting himself up from his slightly reclined position and pressing himself closer to Claire. At this her mouth quirked up slightly in a smile, and she boldly leaned forward into him in response. The heady scent, even the taste, of vanilla was becoming too tempting for Dean, and it took all of his willpower not to take her into his grasp and essentially start to kiss her hungrily, but he somehow managed to hold on. That was however until Claire surprisingly parted her lips to catch his bottom lip between her teeth and pull slightly, earning a moan from him.   
Just as she pulled away with a satisfied smirk, Dean's hands flew up to hold her still, his left up to her cheek and the right to grab her hip. All he could do once more was stare at her, mesmerised by her image.  
"Dean?" She murmured softly, only increasing his grip on her rather than any real reaction other than his eyes darting back to her mouth. Claire smirked again, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. "Save it for later, cowboy." She told him in the same tone she had used when they sparred in the meadow before pulling back, pecking him once more on the lips, and then removing her knees from either side of him so she could sit comfortably in his lap, her back against his chest.   
Looking up at Sam, they were surprised at the mixed emotions of mischief and surprise on his face. "Wow, I didn't think you'd be able to do that, Dean." He noted, referring to his brother's self-control.   
This made Dean smirk before he wrapped his arms around Claire's waist to draw her closer. "I almost didn't." He admitted, earning a giggle from the girl in his arms. Dean shot a grin at his brother. "Damn you, Sammy."  
"Thank you, Sammy." Claire chirped happily.  
Sam simply laughed as he looked at the pair, making them laugh as well. Amidst the laughter, the school bell rang, announcing the end of class, earning a collective stare of the school from the three of them. Sighing, Sam and Claire picked themselves up off the ground to hoist their bags on to their shoulders. Offering him a hand up, Claire pulled Dean to his feet where he exchanged his hold on her hand for placing his hand on her hips and pulling her close. She giggled as she was drawn in, bringing her arms up to rest over his shoulders with her hands folded together on the back of his neck. They simply stood there smiling happily at each other before a flash on their side caught their attention. Turning to look, they saw Sam smiling cheekily at them, one of the disposable cameras in his hands. When he saw their expressions, he simply shrugged.   
"Not the first time I've taken a picture of you guys without you noticing." Was all he said before he took off running across the field.  
"Bitch!" Dean shouted at him, pulling Claire closer to his chest.   
"Jerk!" Sam shouted back as he ran.   
"Assholes." Claire shouted, completing the exchange, shaking her head with a smile lighting up her face.  
"Takes one to know one!" Sam called to her.  
Dean and Claire remained routed to the spot, their arms around each other as they laughed. As they made eye contact once more, their laughter quieted down. Tightening his hold on her, Dean looked at her with a smirk. "You bit my lip!" He exclaimed quietly.   
"And you liked it." Claire shot back, bringing a hand from the back of Dean's neck to rest on his cheek.  
There was no denying that in his mind, but he pushed on as he grabbed her hand and they began to walk towards the school. "So, do I get a kiss before we leave?"  
"Wow, looking for the entire chick flick experience now, are we?" She laughed.   
Now, both Claire and Dean weren't the type of person for over the top and cheesy moments and actions like in the high school drama, "chick flicks." However, the sweet little moments that they did have they enjoyed and only increased their ever growing affections for each other. So, looking down at her, Dean could only smile and squeeze her hand.   
"Only from you, sweetheart." He promised, vowing to get a moment completely alone with her before they were separated despite only having one full day with her packing up and hitting the road once more.  
*  
As luck would have it, it seemed to be in Dean's favour, for it was the following night that he had been granted a golden opportunity. It could have been pure luck that he had still been awake, or it was the idea of saying goodbye the following day that kept him conscious. However, either way when a snore from across the room caught his attention and he located the source of it, Dean was quick to get up and change, grab the Impala's keys, and hurry back to where Claire was still sleeping.   
"Clairey! Clairey!" Dean's excited whispers along with the gentle shaking of her shoulder lulled Claire from her sleep, his lips grazing her forehead as she unexpectedly rolled on to her back.   
"Mmmmhhhhh... What?" She moaned, opening her eyes slightly to sleepily study Dean's moonlit form leaning over hers.   
"Look." He smiled at her, looking over his shoulder to where John sat in the corner. Lazily, Claire lifted her head from the pillow to look at him and was surprised to see that he was asleep. Switching her gaze from John to Dean, she was slightly surprised to see how close his face was to hers, but had no intention of pulling away. "Cummon." He said pulling away from Claire.   
"Ungh, where?" She mumbled, groaning at the loss of closeness from Dean as well as the idea of getting out of bed.   
He walked over to the door, and placing his hand on the knob, turned to her smiling even more widely than before. "Just cummon!" He beckoned quietly.   
Sighing, Claire swung her legs over the side of the bed, her long pale nightgown draping down around her legs as she stood up. Quickly tip toeing around the bed, she raced across the room and into Dean's awaiting arms. Giggling, she relaxed into his chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Where are we going?" Claire whispered excitedly, wrapping her arms around his neck.   
"Put your boots on." He simply told her, pulling her closer.   
Rolling her eyes in amusement, Claire bent down to grab and slip on her boots before straightening up again, all while in Dean's embrace. "Okay." She gave him a brilliant smile.  
At her word Dean turned to silently unlock and open the door. Relinquishing his hold on her waist, he traded it for holding her hand and pulled her out of the room. After discreetly closing the door behind them, he led a giggling Claire quickly down the stairs. "Shhh!!!" For once, Dean felt invigorated; energized, happy in a way he had never felt in his life as he led her down the steps and towards the Impala.   
"What are we doing?" She giggled.   
Dean gently spun her around to press her between the back seat passenger car door and his chest, his hand covering her mouth. "Think about it," He whispered back, pressing his forehead to hers. "This is the first time we haven't been under dad's watch, just the two of us. No one watching." Slowly he dragged his calloused hand along her soft face to bring it to rest on her cheek.  
"Down boy." Claire teased with a gentle smirk. "I don't need to know of that backseat has been christened or not."  
Ignoring that however, Dean trailed his fingers down her cheek, tracing his hand down along her neck and down her arm before coming to wrap once more around Claire's waist, the other hand taking the car keys from his jacket pocket and unlocking the car door behind her. Taking a step back, he pulled her with him and opened the door and leaving her out in the night, climbed into the back seat. With his back resting against the opposite door, Dean smiled gently and opened his arms to her. Smiling in return, Claire gathered her skirt and climbed into the car as well, shutting the door behind her then sliding across the leather seat and snuggling herself deep into Dean's chest, his arms constricting tight around her torso. Sighing, Claire twisted so she lay on her side, her cheek pressed against his chest listening to his breathing. They sat curled up together in comfortable silence for quite some time before something wet fell on to the top if her head. Turning her gaze up in confusion, Claire looked up at see a single tear slide down Dean's face as he squeezed his eyes shut.   
"Hey!" She whispered, moving so that she sat on her knees. "What's wrong?"  
"I don't want to go," Dean admitted, his voice breaking. "I don't want you to go."  
"Oh Dean." Claire cooed sadly. She frowned as she lifted her small hands to cup his face and wipe away his tears. "I don't want that either. You know that, right?"   
Dean responded by wrapping his arms around her and picking her up, brought her to sit in his lap, his arms an impenetrable prison as he held her close and silently cried. Shifting to a more comfortable position, Claire twisted around to wrap her arms around Dean's neck to place a hand on the back of his head and bring his head to rest on her shoulder. Immediately he buried his face in the crook of her neck, his tears falling on to her revealed skin and soaking into the thin material of her nightgown. Stroking the back of his head, Claire simply repeated shh until after a couple of minutes, the shaking and crying had stopped. Regardless, she held him close, albeit a lot tighter than before.   
"Sorry." Dean mumbled into her neck before pulling away, moving his hands down her back to rest on her waist. "You didn't need to see that."  
"Hey," Claire's soft hand caught his chin as he tried to turn his face away, turning his back to face her. Smiling gently, she used the other hand to wipe away the tracks his tears had left. "You're only human, it's natural."   
"But still-" He tried to argue but was silenced as Claire covered his mouth with her hand and turned to straddle his lap with a determined look on her face.   
"No," She said determinedly, putting a hand on either side of his face. Dean's eyes fixed themselves on hers, captivated. "I get how your Dad raised you, to be tough and all, but sometimes you have to let it out. We all do. This life might be hard, but you will always have Sammy and I." She promised. Green orbs studied hazel orbs silently, but all Dean could find was sincerity shining through. Then finally, he smiled. Giving a soft laugh, Claire tilted her head to the side smiling before kissing away Dean's tears. "There." She whispered as she caressed his face with her right hand. However, the cool feeling of metal gently sliding down his face caught Dean's attention. As though he were handling glass, he took Claire's small hand within his own and studied the ring on her right hand's ring finger.   
"What's this?" He asked, his breath warming the silver as he studied the ring he had caught glimpses of before.   
Taking her hand back to study the ring sadly, Claire quietly got off Dean's lap to sit on the seat to his right, opting to worm her way to his side, his arm immediately finding its home around her waist as his other hand took the ringed hand in his. "It's a Claddagh ring." Claire said when they were finally settled. "An Irish ring, my mum gave it to me."  
"Neat." Dean nodded, before flexing his fingers that were grasping Claire's waist. "This was my mom's." He said, referring to the simple band on his own right hand. Dean studied the hands holding the crowned heart closely. "Why do you wear it like that?" He finally asked, referring to how the tip of the heart was pointing away from her.   
Claire twisted the ring around her finger. "The way you wear a Claddagh ring shows your relationship status." She said.   
"Really?"   
"Wearing it like this means your single," She held their hands up. "But wearing it with the heart pointing to me means I'm dating someone."  
As Dean processed Claire's words, he took her left hand in his free hand. "What about on this hand?" He asked, intertwining their fingers to squeeze her hand.   
Smiling, Claire looked up at him before returning her gaze to the ring. "Heart pointing away from me on the left hand would mean I am engaged, and pointing to me would mean-"   
"You're married." Dean finished.  
"Right!" Claire said happily.   
Then frowning, Dean withdrew his arms from around her and dropping her hands, making her sit up and turn to look at him frowning as well. She was about to open her mouth and ask what was wrong when he took her right hand in his and removed the ring. Then ever so gently, and without looking at her once, Dean slid the ring back onto Claire's finger, except this time the point of the heart facing towards her. When Claire saw this her eyes widened significantly, her head snapping up to look at him speechless.   
"There." He declared quietly, bringing her hand up to kiss the ring. Then, he brought his own hand up to cup her cheek. "Now you're mine."   
Slowly a joyful smile bloomed across Claire's face, relaxing into his hand as they looked at each other and smiled. Taking a deep breath, she took a leap of chance and said what was always on her mind. "I love you." She whispered, laughing shakily as she said the words.   
This made Dean smile even wider. "I love you too." He said sincerely, meaning every single word.   
Sitting in the backseat bathed in the pale moonlight, heads tilted to the side, they began to lean into each other, eyes falling shut. However, as it had been any other time they were about to kiss, someone interrupted, this time being a furious John Winchester with a shotgun in hand, ripping open the car door Dean and Claire had been leaning against, sending them both tumbling to the pavement outside. The moment they began to fall, Dean automatically tucked Claire into his body, allowing him to take most of the impact with the cement. They both groaned in pain when they landed on their side, heads bouncing back slightly after landing.   
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Dean!?!" John shouted above them, slamming the Impala door shut.  
"Ungh, trying to fit in some quality time while I can before you drag us apart." Dean groaned, loosening his grip on Claire and checking her over to see if she was alright.   
"What is it going to take to get through to you that she's dangerous?" John continued to shout, clutching his gun.   
This made Dean shoot his father a dirty glare. "What is it going to take for you to get that she's not a threat?"  
"You can't see it because you're blind with what you think is love." John spat. "You can't see past her spell."  
"For the love of god, I'm not a witch or any other kind of creature!" Claire exclaimed, getting off the ground and reaching down to help Dean up. Although, the moment John raised his gun to be level with Claire when she moved towards his son, Dean was on his feet and protecting Claire.   
"You know what, Dad? I'm sick and tired of this crap." He told John. "Why can't you just face the fact that I love Claire?"  
"Because it doesn't matter." John roared. "Soon you two won't be together, and you'll be away from her and back to normal."  
Dean squared his shoulders. "What if I didn't go with you? What if I stayed with her?"  
This made John laugh coldly. "And do what? Run away with the girl and leave us behind? You'd never do that. You'd never leave me and Sam for some girl." When Dean only gave him a look that said try me, he stepped forward. "You'd give up chasing the thing that killed your Mother, just to be with her?"   
"Well why not?" Dean said lowly. "You're so hell-bent on killing that crazy son of a bitch; I know you'll catch him sooner or later."  
“It’s not just about that!” John shouted. “I need you there! Sammy needs you! You owe it to your mother to find the bastard that killed her and return the favor!”  
“And do what? Hunt everything we come across along the way?”  
“That’s our job, Dean! We save a lot of people doing it! Don’t go thinking you can leave it all behind and live a normal life, because you’ll never get it, and definitely not with her!” He jabbed a finger towards Claire.  
Instantly Dean reached towards her to draw her close to him, needing to feel her soft touch to calm him down. “Whatever you say, Dad; because I plan on sticking around her no matter what.” He announced as Claire wrapped her arms around him in return.  
“Back atcha.” She whispered into his leather jacket, so quietly that only Dean heard her, making him smile.  
“What’s the point? You don’t have anything to give her.” John hit below the belt. “You’re broke, got a criminal record, no place to stay. Nothing to get you out.”   
This made Dean smirk. “Well, Hunting might not exactly be a pro-ball career, but I have the Impala. You gave her to me for my birthday last year, I’ll just take that. Got my wheels and my girl.” He smiled down at Claire who smiled back. “Don’t need anything else.”  
Stepping forward threateningly, John pried Claire away from Dean, pushed her roughly to the side where she collapsed to the ground and grabbed him by the shirt. “You’re goin nowhere.” He told his son, shaking him firmly. “Now get your ass inside.” He hissed before pushing Dean away and stalking away, up the stairs, and back into the motel room. In the window, you could see Sam peeking out behind the curtains.  
The moment John was a good distance away from them; Dean swooped down to pull Claire to her feet, running his fingers through her hair and caressing her cheek as he checked her over once more. “Dean, I’m fine.” She promised him, trying to look him straight in the eye.  
“You’re fine…” He echoed emptily finally meeting her gaze before cracking. Choking on a sob, he pulled her into his body and buried his face in her hair. “I’m never going to get out, am I?” Dean stated, sounding so broken that it shattered Claire’s heart. All she could do right now was hold him close once again as he leaned heavily on her and let out all of his pent up emotion.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Friday morning bags were packed into the Impala without a single word, everyone still rather sore about the argument the previous night, and they were checked out of the room. It was only after they had gotten to school that the silence had been broken by Sam when he looked up at his brother.   
"Would you actually leave?" He asked quietly, having felt deeply hurt when he heard Dean declare that he would leave.  
Both Claire and Dean looked at Sam sadly, understanding what he meant by asking that particular question. Locking eyes, they nodded at each other and then gathered Sam together in a tight group hug. "Dad? Yeah, I would leave behind." Dean said as Sam wrapped his arms around him and Claire. "My pain in the ass little brother? Never."  
"I'd want you with us." Claire stroked Sam's hair comfortingly. "It wouldn't be overly fair if we got out and left you behind."  
"Really?" Sam asked them hopefully with a wide smile as he pulled away from them. Dean and Claire however kept an arm around each other.   
"Yeah, man." Dean put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Screw Dad and all his rules. We're the Rebel Alliance."   
Claire and Sam laughed at the Star Wars reference before Claire shook her head. "No. We need a name of our own."  
"Like what?" Sam said, looking between her and Dean.  
Closing her eyes, Claire hummed as she turned thoughts over in her head before opening her eyes once more. "Team Free Will." She said decidedly.   
"Team Free Will?" Dean repeated, a smile pulling at his face.   
"We're a team exercising our free will." Claire shrugged. "One bookworm, one chick magnet, and one Brit."  
"I like it." Sam smiled.  
"Yeah." Dean agreed. "This is it, Team Free Will."  
*  
That school day was filled with best wishes from their teachers and essential nothingness throughout their classes, at lunch there was more storytelling and simply relishing in each other’s company. However, too quickly did the end of the day come, bringing about what all three had been dreading.   
It was when Claire had left her gym class did she realize something was off. Wandering down the hall a little, she was both surprised and worried when she didn't run into Dean. He was always there waiting for her at the end of the day. Always there and never late… Where was he? Quickly she hurried to the front doors where she saw Sam trudging through the hall alone just ahead of her.  
"Sam!" She called to him.  
Turning around, Sam saw Claire run toward him with a look of concern on her face. "Hey, where's Dean?" He asked her.  
"That's the thing, he wasn't there waiting for me after class." She explained breathlessly.   
His brow furrowed in confusion. "But he's always there."  
"I know..." Claire trailed off; looking past Sam and out the door window at what had caught her attention. Walking past him, she made her way out the door and on to the front steps, Sam close on her heels. In the parking lot Dean stood next to the parked Impala, and while they couldn't distinguish the words, it was clear that he and his father were locked in a heated argument. As they walked towards the car and got closer, it was easier to hear what they were screaming at each other.   
"You're being childish! That's what your being! You run away on me, you'll realise how wrong you were your little disillusion and come back." John shouted from where he sat in the driver’s seat.   
"No I'm not! I'm sick and tired of all this crap, and I'm leaving. Sam and I are staying with Claire, and we're getting out!" Dean screamed back.  
"YOU ARE NOT TAKING SAM!" John shrieked, making Sam and Claire freeze mid-step.  
"The HELL I am! He doesn't deserve this life, Dad. He doesn't need all the shit you throw at him. And you know what? Neither do I!"  
"You're going nowhere, now get in the car!" John ground out.  
From where they stood a safe distance away, Claire and Sam saw Dean's frame trembling with anger while his eyes were locked with John's. Looking away, Dean saw them standing a safe distance away on the pavement. After staring at them for a moment, he shot a glare at his father before stalking toward them, John shouting at his back the entire time.  
"Get back here Dean, and get in the car! Now! Dean!"   
However, Dean continued walking, his eyes hard as he kept them on Claire. She looked at him worriedly as he walked towards her, gasping when he took a hold on her wrist and pulled her along with him. "Dean!" She said quietly in protest.  
"Get in the car, Sammy." Was all he said as they passed a confused Sam. When Claire met Sam's gaze, she silently pleaded with him to do as he was told. Nodding, he stood there rooted to the spot for a moment before hurrying into the Impala.  
Dean however continued to walk along the school, pulling Claire along with the shouts of his father at his back until they rounded the building corner. They continued walking until they reached the back of the school where he let go of her wrist and continued ahead a few paces forward before stopping. She studied his tense frame worriedly before finally speaking. “What happened?” She asked him gently.  
With his back still to her, Dean took a few shuddering breaths before turning to look at her with glistening eyes. “We’re not stopping in Sioux Falls.” When Claire only stared calmly at him, he sighed before continuing on. “Dad plans on dropping you off at Bobby’s and then hitting the road, we’re not staying.”  
“Oh…” Claire said softly, her eyes downcast as she squeezed them shut.   
Dean sniffed. “I won’t even get to say good bye…”   
“He wants to make sure you don’t have a chance to stay behind.” She figured it out, looking back at him.  
“Wants to make sure I don’t try and make a run for it.” The silence between them was painful as they realized this was the last time they would ever have together. The only chance they’d really have at saying anything that there was left to say. "You know, I wish we really could just run away." Dean sighed admittedly, looking away from her.   
Claire looked down and shuffled her feet. "Maybe not now, but like you said, maybe we could one day..." She said hesitantly.   
"And do what? Live some apple pie life?" He snorted, the idea becoming far less realistic with his Dad standing in the way...   
"It's all I've ever wanted." Green snapped to hazel as they drank in each other’s image. "Haven't you ever wished for a normal life?"  
Dean twitched, feeling cracks beginning to instantly form in his already weak defences. "So what? We run away, buy a house with a white picket fence, get married, and have a family?" The last two ideas slipped out of his mouth without permission, but he didn't get a chance to regret it as Claire tilted her head to the side and smiled gently, immediately warming his heart.   
"Together? Why not?" She replied.  
This stunned him. "What about Sam?"   
"Well..." She said thoughtfully. "You know I love Sam, I'd take him with us in a heartbeat. Although, you're Dad probably wouldn't let us take him-"   
"He wouldn't let me go either." Dean interjected in a mumble.   
Claire shot him a look. "You're nineteen, Dean. You're a legal adult; your Dad can't keep you against your will."  
He snorted again. "You wanna bet?" Glancing at Claire he studied her, immediately softening as their eyes met. "But what about you? You're not nineteen." He said quietly, putting his hand against her cheek to which she leaned into.   
"If you're that worried about us being the same age if we run away, I only have to wait five months." She shrugged. "It'd be a long wait, but if you go with your Dad and I stay with Bobby, I could finish school, get a job, make some money, then you come back to me," As she said this, Claire stepped forward, running her hands along his shoulders and down his chest to smooth down his jacket lapels. "You hurry back to me." She repeated, dropping her hands and looking up to smile brilliantly at him.   
Finally, Dean smiled back at her. She was offering him a way out, a chance at a normal life, with her, something no one had sincerely offered him before. Claire understood what it was like, to be a Hunter and the baggage that came with the job, but for him she made an effort to make him happy; and not just him even, she was more than willing to take Sammy along with them.   
Filled with overwhelming happiness, Dean ducked down and kissed Claire, this time however, directly, finally and freely, on the lips. With no one watching or telling her not to move, Claire immediately melted into the kiss, bringing her hands up to cup his face as he brought his own hands to rest on her hips, both pulling the other in as close as they could. Despite how close they clutched to each other, the kiss was slow, soft and sweet, no rushing. There was a sort of urgency to it, seeing as how many times they had come to properly kissing on various occasions before always being unceremoniously interrupted, but the need and pure love was evident in their slow but deep touches and caresses. It was only them, wrapped up in each other and their own world, with nothing to interrupt them.   
Neither one of them however noticed the change that begun to happen as they pulled away to rest their foreheads against each other breathlessly, occasionally bringing their lips together in soft kisses. It was when they opened their eyes to gaze at each other when they noticed the soft light illuminating around them. When Claire saw this, she pulled away from Dean in terror, looking at herself with wide eyes as she recognised the growing light from when she had first died.   
"Claire?" Dean asked her, scared of what was happening to her as her form flickered like a candle flame, between a ghostly and solid form. Grabbing her hand, he squeezed it as he felt it fade and reappear in his tight grasp.  
Her hazel eyes alit in terror, Claire paled. "Dean..." She whispered before the light grew, enveloping her completely.   
Closing his eyes when the light grew too bright, Dean clutched her hand in desperation, his hand suddenly becoming warm, until he was grasping empty air. As the light faded, he felt that warmth course through his arm, to his chest, and straight to his heart. But it wasn't that what worried him. Cautiously opening his eyes, Dean gave a strangled cry of anguish when he saw Claire was no longer standing in front of him.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

The drive from Portland to Sioux Falls had been a tense one. After Dean had cried his eyes out behind the school at the loss of Claire, with red rimmed eyes he made his way back to the Impala, and once there, began telling a tailored version of what had happened. Sufficed to say, his Dad had not been happy that she had somehow disappeared; especially when he forced Dean to admit that it was after he and Claire had kissed that she disappeared. So for the entire ride, Sam and Dean blindly watched the scenery pass them with tears in their eyes as they flew down the road, while John angrily gripped the steering wheel.   
They had called ahead to let Bobby of the situation, so when they rolled into his Yard late Saturday evening, there he stood on his front porch waiting. After piling out of the vehicle, John marched into the house angrily, muttering a "hello" to Bobby as he passed by. While Bobby spared a glare as John passed him, his expression immediately softened when he turned to the boys and saw their sad and pained expressions, especially Dean’s. Smiling sadly at them and with tears of his own, he silently opened his arms to them. As soon as they had climbed to the top of the stairs, Sam and Dean walked into Bobby's awaiting arms, beginning to cry as soon as they made contact.  
Sniffling, tears ran down his face as he consoled the two. "I know, boys." He mumbled. "I miss her, too."  
*  
By midnight, Dean couldn't sleep. On the main floor, John and Bobby were sitting in the library, having gone over what had happened the last month, from John's perspective anyway, and researching any possible explanation as to what had happened. So far, they had found no answer. Meanwhile, Sam had ended up crying himself to sleep. Claire had become a constant, caring female figure in his life. She was the best friend and older sister he never had, and now that she was dead, with no chance of seeing her again, he had finally broken down when he had crawled to bed.   
Although Dean felt bad for what his brother was feeling, he knew that what he was feeling was immensely worse than what Sam was going through. There wasn't any sort of proper words he could find to describe what he felt. To him, Claire had quickly become his world. No girl had ever made that sort of a connection with him before. Yet somehow she managed to do it. All the words, touches, caresses, kisses, and promises, they had meant something deeper. She meant something more, and she was stolen right from his grasp. The worst of all was that Dean knew he should feel empty inside, hollow. But here he was, feeling full and complete, which was ridiculous, because he had only felt this way when he had been with her.   
After lying alone in bed being plagued by his thoughts, Dean could take it no longer and got up. Pulling on his clothes, boots and jacket, he made his way down the stairs, out the back of the house, and into the dark depths of the scrap yard. His arms crossed tightly across his chest, Dean kicked at the rocks on the ground, sending them flying and rebounding off the old rusted car frames. It wasn't fair. He could still feel her presence, everything about her. Her soft touch, her warmth; he could hear her voice, her laugh. Worst of all, he could still feel her lips against his.   
It just wasn't fair.   
"It's not fair!!" Dean screamed into the night, tears streaming down his face, his cries echoing through the yard.   
"Dean." It was like a faint whisper, but he heard it nonetheless.   
Whirling around, he could have died and gone to heaven or hell, he wouldn't have cared. For there before him stood Claire, a gentle smile on her face as she looked up at him. "Claire..." Dean breathed, exhaling shakily.   
She smiled widely at him when he said her name. "Hello, Dean."  
Wiping at his eyes, he took in her image hungrily, for he had thought he'd never get to see her again. If he had thought she had been beautiful before, it paled in comparison to the unearthly beauty she was now. Dressed in a flowing white dress, the moonlight made her look as though she was glowing; and despite looking quite different than before, it was still his Claire nonetheless. Reaching to put a hand against her cheek, Dean's heart dropped when his hand passed through her. Claire's form never flickered however as he did this, her eyes sliding shut in desire and regret when his fingers passed through her as though she were air.   
"C-Claire, I'm so sorry." He hiccupped, tears forming in his eyes once more.   
"Shhhhh, sweetheart it wasn't your fault." She cooed, reaching up to stroke his face, but her actions had the same result as his had.   
"W-we were going to run away, we were going to get out. We were going to be together… We were going to be happy…” Dean’s rambling trailed off as he met her gaze.  
“I know, Dean.” Claire said gently. “And I’m sorry.”  
He wiped at his eyes desperately, trying to take control of his emotions. “What happened?”   
Brow furrowed, she pursed her full lips in thought. “I don't know. In the middle of that light, it was like I was pulled into you… the very fabric of who you are... by something… and then…”  
“And then?”  
Claire looked up at him, wide eyes filled with amazement. “I saw everything.”  
“What do you mean, you saw everything?” Dean asked in confusion.  
"Life flashed before my eyes-" She started before being cut off.  
"I'll try not to see the irony in that." He interjected, making her smile and giggle. Claire's reaction immediately melted his heart; for as long as he could see her, he would do anything to simply see her smile and hear her laugh again.   
"But it wasn't my life." She smiled before shaking her head and her face clouded over. "It was yours."   
When Claire looked at him as she said this, it felt as though Dean had been plunged back into that frozen lake behind their motel in Portland. Now, in anybody's life, there will always be things one does not want anyone to find out about, and Dean had certainly done some things, and some things with other girls that he'd never dream of telling Claire, or anyone else for that matter, about. So, all he could do was stand there with his mouth agape as memories flashed through his mind. "Son of a bitch." He muttered, being the only thing he could say at this point.   
"I guess I shouldn't mention that I could feel your emotions at times, either?" Claire added sheepishly. Before Dean could reply, she added "I just want you to know that I feel the same."  
"What do you mean?" Dean said hoarsely.   
"How you feel about me, the feeling is mutual." She clarified, tilting her head to the side with her shy little smile.   
Unable to hold on any longer, Dean began to cry once more. "I loved you. Oh god, I still do." He cried, looking up to the dark sky above them.   
"And I, you." Claire's voice wavered, but sniffling, she stood up straight and squared her shoulders before looking at him firmly. "But I want you to move on."  
"Nooo..." Dean whined, meeting her stare.   
"I'm not saying forget about me, Dean. But I want you to move on. Go meet another girl, make her happy." She listed off, shaking her head. "Now I know that's hard when on the road, but try. Try and find some piece of happiness."  
If Claire had thought her heart was destroyed before, the utter pain that tore through her at his broken expression told her otherwise. "I was happy with you!" He told her.   
"And I was happy with you." She tried to smile. "I don't regret a single moment I had with you, but our time ran out. My time ran out. Look, I will always be with you, but you have to move on."  
Dean gave a shaky laugh. "You know, that was my wish." He referred to his birthday pie.   
"What was your wish?" Claire asked in confusion.   
"That we could always be together." He admitted.   
"At this point the best I can do is haunt you for the rest of your life." She teased.   
"And I'd take it."  
"Then I'd call you a stupid Hunter." Claire retorted firmly. Her tone made Dean straighten up and his sad expression drop. "Listen to me, Dean. We don't know what I am, but we know what ghosts are."  
"That won't happen to you." He argued, knowing where she was going with this train of thought.  
"You don't know that!" Her tone left no room for argument. "So if by some miracle I stick around for a while, but I someday snap and lose it, don't hesitate to stop me." Her breath was shaky as she looked at him with a terrified expression. "I don't want to turn into a monster."  
Bringing his arms up, Dean went to grab Claire's shoulders when his hands went right through her, making him growl in annoyance. "You're not going to turn into a monster, Claire. You're a good person, don't forget that."  
Smiling at him gently, she brought up a ghostly hand to supposedly rest on his cheek. Immediately Dean scrunched his eyes shut, longing to feel her soft touch, while knowing he probably never would again. “Still. If I start to lose it, I want you to stop me. I won’t hate you if you have to do it, but it’s your job to stop supernatural threats.” Her eyes darkened with worry. “And I don’t want to be one of them. Promise me that.”  
Eyes watering, Dean nodded. “Promise.” He tried to swallow the lump in his throat.  
“Promise you’ll give Sam my book, that you’ll keep my music, you give away my clothes.” Claire said.  
Laughing, he sniffled and wiped his eyes. “Promise.”  
“And most importantly, don’t forget about me.” Claire smiled sadly, a lone tear sliding down her cheek.  
“Never.” Dean gasped softly.  
“I love you.”  
The corner of his mouth tugged upwards. “I love you too.” He promised earnestly.  
“Now go get some sleep.” She told him, grinning.   
“You won’t leave, will you?” He asked.  
“Never.” When she moved to hold his hand, she frowned unhappily at their hands. “I’m going to have to get used to that.”   
“Yeah,” Dean scoffed. “I’m not too happy about it either.”  
“DEAN!” A shout made both of them whirl their heads around to face the direction of the house.   
“Yeah, I’m comin!” He shouted back.  
Meeting each other’s gazes, Claire nodded towards the house. “Go, I’ll keep up.”  
With a single nod to her, Dean turned on his heel and began running, weaving through the yard until he reached the house. As he ran up the steps of the porch, Claire was already there, leaning against the building as she waited. When he looked at her in surprise, she simply shrugged at him with wide eyes. Sighing, Dean shook his head and opened the door to the house, making his way into the kitchen. Once in the room, he saw his father and Bobby standing in the middle of the room, both rather red in the face while Bobby held his rifle tight in his hands.   
“Dad?” Dean asked cautiously and in confusion, slowly inching his way towards the two men.  
“Wake up your brother and pack up your things, Dean.” John ordered. “We’re leaving.”  
“Why?”  
“We’re going to go stay with some real friends; one’s who won’t be as blinded by that girl as you are.” He said, still glaring at the older man.  
“Shut up, Winchester.” Bobby spat. “She was my god-daughter! I bet you didn’t even give Claire a chance to prove herself.”   
“I’m not that stupid.” John growled.  
Bobby snorted. “Now that’s a load of bullshit there. You just didn’t like how close she and your boy were getting.”   
Dean moved to stand next to Bobby. “I loved her, Dad. And now she’s gone.” Despite the words that left his mouth, he knew that wasn’t completely true, seeing as how Claire was standing next to him, but it was obvious to the both of them that he was the only one who could see her.  
Looking between the two against him, a glare was settled on the younger of the two men. "Dean, you knew her for a month, get over it." His Dad barked at him. “Besides, it’s your own damn fault she’s gone. If you had been able to keep your hands to yourself, we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.”  
“Don’t you talk to him like that.” Bobby said.  
“Don’t tell me how to talk to my son.” John shot back.  
“Dean…” Claire called to him quietly from the doorway. Looking away as the two men began to argue again, he turned his attention to her as she gestured to the stairs. “Let’s go.”  
Silently he made his way out of the room and up the stairs, Claire appearing at the top of the stairs waiting for him. Hurrying into the bedroom he had been staying in, Dean threw his belongings into his duffle before turning to Claire’s bag, having brought it up with him so no one else would touch it. Opening it, he snatched the Harry Potter book, Walkman, headphones, and pile of CDs from within before placing them in his own bag with care. Smiling in the dark to herself, Claire watched his movements before following him out into the hall and then into Sam’s room. The bag was placed on the floor by the door as Dean walked to the bed where Sam was sleeping. Leaning over the mattress, he began to shake his brother to wake him up.  
“Sam. Hey, Sammy! Cummon. Pack up.” Dean hissed.  
“Mmmmmhhhh, whyyyy?” Sam whined sleepily.  
“Dad and Bobby are having a pissing match downstairs.” Dean explained, standing up straight as Sam sat up in bed, both listening to the muffled yelling from below. “Bobby’s taking my side over Claire, and Dad’s not too happy about it. Wants us to pack up so we can go stay with real friends.”  
“But Bobby is.” Sam said, rubbing his eyes.  
Shrugging, Dean threw the clothes that were on the ground at Sam. “Yeah well, Dad doesn’t seem to think so. Let’s get going.”  
“Dean,” The tone of Sam’s voice stopped Dean, making him stop cold. “Are you okay?”  
His gaze flicking to Claire’s sad expression, he slowly turned to face his brother. “Stow the touchy-feely crap. I’m fine.”  
“Look, I’m just sayin that if you wanna talk about it-” Sam began before being cut off.   
“Dude,” Dean held up a hand. “No chick flick moments.” With that he picked up his bag and left the room.  
“Sweetheart, he’s just worried about you.” Claire voiced quietly behind him as they walked down the stairs to the main level.  
“I said I’m fine.” Dean muttered under his breath as he waited by the front door.  
Once Sam had joined him, John was storming past them and out the door, Bobby herding him out with his rifle in hand. “Get out, Winchester.” He ordered gruffly. “If I see you on my property again, don’t think I won’t shoot you.”  
“Bobby…” Claire said dejectedly, seeing the events unfold before her.  
“Get in the car, boys.” John said, ripping the door open.   
“Bye, Bobby.” Sam said, looking at Bobby gloomily before hurrying out into the night.   
“Dean, I’d like a word with you.” Bobby looked at Dean.  
“No-” John started before having the rifle pointed to his chest. Glaring at the owner of the rifle, he slowly backed away and out of the house.  
“You alright?” Bobby lowered the rifle as he turned back to Dean.  
“Look, Bobby. I’m-” Dean began.  
“Don’t tell me you’re fine, boy, because things ain’t obviously good up in that head of yours.” Bobby cut him off.  
“He’s right.” Claire murmured into Dean’s ear.  
When all Dean could do was stare at him, Bobby sighed. “I know how you feel, losin someone you love, and with your Dad ridin your ass about gettin over her, it probably ain’t helpin. So, there anything you want to tell me?”  
Seemingly looking away, while in reality looking to Claire, Dean searched her eyes before looking back to Bobby and sighing. “Claire and I were going to run away, take Sam with us and get out of Hunting for good.”  
Bobby’s eyes widened slightly at the revelation. “No wonder why your Daddy wasn’t happy with you.”  
“Yeah.”   
“You reeaally loved her, didn’t ya?” He pushed on.  
Dean’s eyes were deep as he looked up at him. “I still do, she made me happy.”  
Smiling slightly, Bobby laughed. “Yeah, she had a way of making people pretty happy.”  
“Except Dad.” Dean frowned.  
“Dean! Let’s go!” John shouted from the Impala.  
The three of them looked out the door frowning. “Your old man might have thought he was looking out for you, but he should have trusted you. And her. Claire wouldn’t hurt anyone unless she had to.” Bobby patted Dean on the shoulder.  
“I know, trained against her a few times. She was good.” Dean met Claire’s gaze slyly, making her giggle.   
“Take care, Dean. And call if you need anything.”   
“I said let’s go.” John’s voice suddenly sounded from the door as he grabbed Dean by the arm and proceeded to haul him away.   
“Bye, Bobby.” Claire whispered as she looked through the back windshield from where she now sat next to Sam in the backseat as Dean got in the passenger seat up front. John was quick to get into the Impala as well before sending it rumbling off into the night, the car rocking slightly as a rock salt shot made contact with back end of the vehicle as they hurried away from the Singer Salvage Yard.


	19. Chapter 19

Epilogue

July 13, 1998

Sitting in the front bench of the Impala outside a drug store, Dean and Sam sat close together with a small pile of envelopes lying in their laps. Hands trembling, Dean opened an envelope and gently removed the pile of glossy paper that lay within. On top of the stack of photos was a picture of Dean himself, his eyes downcast as he looked to the table that had been in front of him and out of the frame. Smiling with tears welling up in his eyes as he knew what the next picture was, he moved the picture of him to the back of the pile. Now on top of the pile sat the first picture Dean had taken of Claire. Both boys smiled as they studied the frozen image of their friend. Her hazel eyes were crinkled at the corners as she smiled mischievously past the camera and at Dean while her loose curls were fanned out behind her as she had been spinning when the picture was taken. Breathing out a deep sigh, Dean stared at the photo longingly before a whisper sounded in his ear.  
“I know, love.” Claire breathed from where she sat invisible in the driver’s seat as Dean and Sam were close together on the middle of the car bench.   
With lumps in their throats, the two Winchesters continued going through their newly developed photos. It had taken some time; both to save the money and to gather the courage to do it, but the boys had finally gone to get the photos from Claire’s disposable cameras developed. Now, as they sat there flipping through the photos and occasionally laughing, Sam and Dean felt better, almost comforted seeing their best friend smiling, as well as a basic replay of the best month of their lives in still images. For Sam especially it was comforting, as it was to him, Claire was dead. As for Dean, six months had passed since Claire had appeared to him in Bobby’s salvage yard, but she never disappeared, never leaving him. In a way, it hurt to have her so close but not being able to touch her. However, it was comforting to have her close. To see her, to hear her, even if no one else could. That was what had bugged her at first, not being able to talk to anyone else asides from Dean. It was better to be able to talk to just Dean than to be able to see him and not talk to him. Although, it had especially hurt her when she and Dean had been testing how far apart they could be from each other, which ended up being 1000 meters by the way, and she had found Sam hiding with tears streaming down his face, sobs filling the otherwise dead air around him. Claire herself had ended up crying herself that night because she hadn’t been able to do anything to ease Sam’s pain, which in turn made Dean cry a little himself because he couldn’t hold her as she cried like he used to do.  
In short it hadn’t been overly pretty.  
Finally though, they had decided to get the pictures developed, and that small action soothed the pain each of them had felt as they gazed at their fond memories. As they continued to go through the pictures, Dean was becoming increasingly aware that his brother hadn’t been kidding when he had said he had taken several pictures of Claire and Dean together without them realising it. There were pictures of them cuddling, sleeping together, holding hands, staring at each other… Hell, there was even a picture from when Sam had dared Claire to kiss Dean without Dean kissing back. That one made Dean extremely happy as he chuckled to himself sadly.  
It was when they had encountered the picture of the three of them from Dean’s birthday did they pause for a long time, remembering the main reason why they had gotten the pictures developed in the first place.  
“Happy birthday, Clairey.” Dean whispered.  
December 22, 1998  
“What are we doing, Dean?” Sam asked as they hurried against the snow blowing harshly in the streets. The last couple days had been quiet for them as they got closer and closer to two specific and important dates; the day Claire had been shot and the day they had met her. In reality, January in general was one big reminder of Claire and it still hurt either way. Over the year, the boys had changed, their features maturing, while the biggest change was that Sam had grown height wise quite exponentially, leaving him just a few inches shorter than Dean at the moment.   
Even Claire had changed over the last year; her features changing and maturing as well as time had gone on, as though she had never died. This key factor was significant to her and Dean’s research as they tried to figure what had happened to her and what she had become, because ghosts didn’t age, and Claire didn’t have any sort of ability that a ghost may develop over time, let alone any sort of ability alone. Dean didn’t dare ask nor mention this to another soul to try and aid him in his search, so for now, it was trying to enjoy each other’s company while trying to figure out what had happened.  
“I told you, we’re going to see a movie.” Was all Dean said as they clutched their jackets closer.   
“Yeah, but what movie?” Sam asked, irked by his brother’s cryptic answer.  
“You’ll see.” Dean promised as they entered the theatre and made their way to the ticket booth. When it was finally their turn in line, Dean took out the cash he had been saving and looked to the glowing sign behind the counter. “Two tickets for Prince of Egypt.” He asked.  
At the name of the title, both Sam and Claire’s eyes bulged in disbelief, a blush immediately lighting up Claire’s cheeks. After he was handed the tickets and they made their way to the concession stand, Dean bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling when he saw the look on Claire’s face.  
“Claire wanted to see this movie.” Sam said in surprise, recalling when Claire had expressed an interest in seeing the movie. This made her smile gently at him when he said this.  
“Yeah,” Dean said distantly. “She can’t be here to see it, but we can see it for her.”  
Getting their desired snacks, the boys began to make their way to the theatre their movie was showing in, meanwhile the grin of anticipation grew with each step Claire took next to Dean as they got closer and closer.  
“Thank you.” She whispered as they moved into the dark room and took their seats, taking the second and third chair in a row while Dean left the first one empty.   
It was when they were settling down that a pretty girl approached them, throwing a flirty smile at Dean and pointed to the seemingly empty seat next to him. “Mind if I sit here?” She asked in a high pitched voice, fluttering her eyes at him.  
However, Sam was surprised when his brother glared up at the girl, and even more surprised by the response he gave her. “Yeah, actually. Seat’s taken.”  
Huffing in annoyance, the girl stalked away while pouting.   
“Dean…” Claire started to say before trailing off as Dean looked down and shook his head. For the last year she had been trying to encourage him to move on, and that although she was never far away, she could always wait in another room if he decided to get… physical… with a girl. The closest she had gotten to convincing him to move on was when he had met a yoga instructor back in August, but Dean still wasn’t fully happy when he had been with her, still longing for Claire to be in his arms instead.  
Sam was about to open his mouth to say something about his brother’s behavior when the room went completely dark and the movie started. After a moment of written commentary about the story and the film’s interpretation of the stories found in Exodus, a trumpet began to play the familiar lullaby from the commercials that Claire had come to fall in love with.   
While the picture of the Nile finally faded onto the screen, Dean sneaked a quick glance to his left to watch Claire as she leaned forwards, her wide eyes glued to the movie before her and a wide grin plastered across her face. Relaxing back into his own seat, he smiled as well, knowing that this trip to the movies was worth it when it made his girl this happy.


	20. Pilot Part 1

Stanford University, 2005

"I still think this is a bad idea." A voice said from the passenger seat.   
Dean put the car in park and turned the engine off. Sighing, he looked to his right with a wide grin. "You know you've said that at least twenty times." He said.   
The woman in the passenger seat rolled her eyes. "Seven times actually." Claire corrected him, trying to hide the smile that blossomed on her face.   
It was no use however as Dean caught a sight of it. "Don't matter, sweetheart." He gave her a shit eating grin. "I’m going in." With that he winked at her before getting out of the Impala. As he walked around it, Claire stood leaning against the passenger door, her long white dress seeming to glow in the moonlight. "Besides, I need him for this."  
"Dean, this isn't the first time John's been late from a job." She tried to convince him, walking after him as he made his way around the building. “Like the Poltergeist in Amherst, and the Devil’s Gate in Clifton. He always comes back, hon. Don’t worry.”  
"Yeah, well." Dean never completed the thought as he looked up at the fire escape before jumping up to grab the ladder.   
Claire leaned her head to the side as she now watched him climb up the escape from the platform above him. "You do realise Sam will kick your ass when he catches you breaking into his place." She warned him, her long chestnut curls blowing in the light breeze.   
"He wouldn't." Dean grunted as he hauled himself up the ladder, making Claire snort as she leaned back where she sat. He then looked up at her with a smirk. "By the way, loving the view." He teased, referring to her sitting on the edge of the entrance for the ladder on to the platform and her choice of attire.   
Immediately Claire blushed like mad, pulling her legs out of the hole to fold them beneath her. Even after seven year of her almost constantly at his side, it still made Dean happy and smile genuinely when he managed to make Claire blush. Those years had been hard, with the stress of the job, Sam leaving, and, oh, the fact that the girl Dean was completely in love with was dead but was always no more than 1000 feet away from him, and was visible only to him, no one else. Yet somehow, although it was difficult, Dean and Claire managed to make it work. "Shut up." She mumbled shyly.  
"Not a chance." Dean said as he pulled himself on to the escape before beginning to climb the stairs, Claire hot on his heels.   
After a moment of silence save for the quiet clangs of Dean's shoes against the metal steps, Claire asked the question that had been bothering her since the moment Dean had brought up going to get his brother. "So, what are you going to say to Sam to convince him to come with you?" She asked, not bothering to say us because technically, she was never physically there with them. Not even as a ghost.   
"Don’t worry about it," Dean paused for a moment to look back at her. "He'll come."  
"No, he'll be more likely to say what I said." She drew out, try in a vain to convince him to see her way.   
"It'll be fine, Clairey." He promised before stopping at a window.   
"Dean, he's made a life for himself. A normal life." Claire stressed, reaching out to cover his hand with hers before realizing there would be no point. She didn't have a physical body, so trying to touch his hand would be useless. It was something both had to remember over the years, yet it never diminished the fact that both had an aching desire hold each other, just to feel the other's touch like they used to when they were teenagers. So she withdrew her hand, full of regret. "Maybe you should leave him alone."  
"He'll never have a normal life." Dean announced, stopping his efforts to open the window. "He never has, and he never will."  
Claire rolled her eyes again as she leaned against the brick wall, watching Dean try to open the window. "Not with you dragging him back into this." She muttered.   
"There!" He sighed in satisfaction as he slid the window open with a thud. "Now, if you'll excuse me," He gave her a grin. "I’m off to find a beer."   
"Around Sam? Good luck." Claire snorted as Dean slid through the window.   
The moment his feet hit the floor, Claire was inside the dark room, sitting on a chair arm as she watched Dean less than gracefully pull himself into the room with a thump. "Alright, kitchen." He mumbled to himself, looking around the place before pointing to a doorway and making his way across the floor.   
Sighing, Claire rolled her eyes once more before getting to her feet and making a move to follow Dean. However, the almost silent padding of feet on the hardwood floor made her stop dead in her tracks, whipping her head to survey the dark room as her Hunter instincts kicked in. After a moment, she slowly moved forward, trying to hurry to Dean's side before looking behind her and seeing a large and dark hulking figure approaching them. "Dean!" She shouted in warning.   
Immediately Dean moved into action, spinning around to grab his attacker’s arms as they reached his neck, twisting and throwing them away. The pair were a blur as they fought, limbs flying out only visible against the light that weakly shone through the covered windows. Claire held her breath as she watched, wincing with each hit landed until Dean's attacker was on the floor, with Dean himself on top.   
"Whoah, easy tiger." Dean teased, looking down at his little brother with a grin.   
"Dean?" Sam asked incredulously, panting for breath.   
"Hello, Sammy." Claire whispered as she joined Dean at his side, leaning over to study the younger man.   
Dean chuckled in amusement at his little brother, smiling even wider when Sam said "You scared the crap out of me!"  
"That's ‘cause you're out of practice." He taunted. At that Sam grabbed Dean's arm and throat, flipping him over so that they exchanged positions in a loud thud. This only made Dean chuckle even more. "Or not." He admitted.   
"You deserved that, hon." Claire now leaned over him, the tips of her long hair almost seemingly touching his face.   
Ignoring her, Dean shoved his brother off of him after receiving a fake sympathetic pat. "Get off of me." He said, getting a hand up with a grunt.   
"Dean, what the hell are you doing here?" Sam asked.   
"Whoah." Claire backed up in surprise as she looked up at Sam, taken back by his height. He was taller than when he had left, even taller than Dean now.   
"I was looking for a beer." Dean clapped Sam on the shoulders, still grinning widely.   
The younger Winchester however was unamused. “What the hell are you doing here?” He repeated.  
Instantly the grin slipped off Dean’s face. “Okay, all right.” He submitted. “We gotta talk.”  
“Uhhh, the phone?” Sam looked at him as if it were obvious.  
“If I had called, would you have picked up?”   
Suddenly, the light was switched on in the room, causing the three in the room to look to the pretty, tall blonde girl who looked at the two men sleepily. "Sam?"  
"Jess, hey." Sam sighed. The girl, Jess, and Dean stared at each other curiously, though Dean more so in amazement. "Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica." Sam introduced him. Claire rolled her eyes for what felt like the trillionth time that night when she caught sight of Dean's facial expression.   
At his name, realization lit Jess's face. "Wait, your brother Dean?" She asked, pointing at him with a smile.   
Dean grinning back. "I love the smurfs." He said, referring to the shirt she wore.   
"Dude, focus." Claire reminded him from the side to no avail.   
Despite her warning, he continued on. "You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league." Dean approached her with a grin.   
"And she's way out of yours if she's going out with your brother." Claire said as she walked around him to stand next to Jess, who was at least a head taller than she was.  
This made Jess roll her eyes. “Just, let me put something on.” She moved to leave.  
“No, no.” Dean protested, now making Claire roll her eyes. Again. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Seriously.”  
“Bet you missed us, huh Sammy?” She asked rhetorically while watching Sam from afar, her words however falling on deaf ears.  
"Anyway," Dean continued on. "I gotta borrow your boyfriend here and talk about son private family business. But uh, nice meeting you."  
"Thank you." Claire whispered to herself, looking to the ceiling in thanks.   
Looking between his brother and girlfriend conflicted, Sam shook his head. "No." He walked to Jess's side. "No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her."  
"Okay." Dean said smugly, turning to face them. "Um, Dad hasn't been home in a few days."  
Jess looked up at Sam. "So he's work in overtime on a miller time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later." He said confidently.   
"Sammy..." Claire sighed pleadingly.   
At this Dean looked down, not happy at where this was going before looking back up. "Dad's on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days." He deadpanned.   
Immediately the confident look slipped off of Sam's face. "Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside."  
*   
After Sam had changed into jeans and a sweater, the two brothers had left the apartment, already arguing as they made their way down the stairs.   
"I mean come on; you just can't break in in the middle of the night and expect me to hit the road with you." Sam said as Dean walked ahead of him, Claire trailing closely behind.   
"You're not hearing me, Sammy." Dean rebutted. "Dad's missing. I need you to help me find him."  
"You remember the poltergeist in Amherst, or the devil's gate in Clifton?" Sam listed off. "He was missing then, too. And he's always missing, and he’s always fine."  
"Told you so." Claire said the same time Dean spoke.   
"Not for this long. Now, are you gunna come with me or not?" He said impatiently.   
"I'm not." Sam said firmly.  
"Why not?" Came Dean's immediately response.   
"I swore I was done hunting, for good."   
"Come on, it wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad." Dean rolled his eyes as he started to walk away.   
Sam scoffed. "Yeah?" He chased after his brother. "When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet he gave me a .45."   
"Well what was he supposed to do?" They paused at the door to stare at each other.   
"I was nine years old!" Sam stressed. "He was supposed to say don't be afraid of the dark."  
"Don't be afraid of the dark!?!" Dean repeated in a high pitched tone of disbelief. “What, are you kidding me!?! Of course you should be afraid of the dark! You know what's out there!"  
At this point in the argument there was no room for Claire to fit in any word as Sam continued on. "Yeah, I know. But still! The way we grew up after Mom was killed, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her. But we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we can find."  
"Save a lot of people doing it, too." Both Dean and Claire said at the same time.   
Sam scoffed again, and after a moment of heated staring, he spoke again. “You think Mom would have wanted this for us?”   
Claire’s eyes grew wide at this. “Okay, that’s hitting below the belt.” She said as Dean shoved the gate open and walked outside.  
Despite his brother’s attitude, Sam continued on. “The weapon training? And melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors.”  
Sitting on the hood of the Impala as the boys walked around it, with a saddened expression Claire watched the light and shadows dance across her lover’s hardened expression. “So what are you going to do? You just going to live some normal, apple pie life?” He asked. “Is that it?”  
“No. Not normal. Safe.”   
“And that’s why you ran away.” Dean claimed before scoffing.  
With a disbelieving expression, Sam shook his head. “I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I wanted to go, I should stay gone. And that’s what I’m doing.”  
“Yeah, well, Dad’s in real trouble right now, if he’s not dead already. I can feel it.”  
“He’s never going to help you willingly if you talk to him like that, Dean.” Claire took advantage of the silence and chided him softly. “Be nice.”  
Heeding her advice, Dean sighed and looked away for a moment, his vulnerability finally showing through. “I can’t do this alone.” He admitted.  
This surprised Sam. “Yes, you can.”   
Looking away once more, Dean said “Yeah, well, I don’t want to.”  
This stunned Sam into silence as Dean looked anywhere but at his brother who mulled over the thoughts in his head. Sighed, Sam too avoided looking at the other. “What was he hunting?” The question surprisingly came.  
Looking up in surprise, Dean gave Sam a triumphant smirk before quickly walking around the car to the trunk. Popping it open, then lifting up the false bottom to reveal the arsenal underneath, he shifted through the disarray of weapons looking for something in particular. “All right. Let’s see, where the hell did I put that thing?” He muttered.  
“So when Dad left, why didn’t you go with him?” Sam asked, bending over to watch his brother.  
“There, love.” Claire pointed to something at the bottom of the trunk.   
“I was working my own gig. This uh, voodoo thing down in New Orleans.” Dean said off handily as he looked to where Claire had pointed.  
“Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself.” Sam said in disbelief.  
At this Dean looked up to Sam with his eyebrows raised. “I’m 26, dude.” He retorted in offense before looking back down to the folder in front of him. “Alright, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago this guy,” He handed a page to Sam. “They found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA.”  
“So maybe he was kidnapped.” Sam suggested in vain hope.  
“Yeah, well. Here’s another one in April.” Dean dropped a paper back into the trunk. “Another in December ‘04, ‘03, ‘98, ‘92. Ten of ‘em over the past twenty years. All men,” he snatched the paper back from Sam. “All the same five-mile stretch of road.” Grabbing a leather parcel off the false bottom, he started to fiddle with it. “It started happening more and more, so Dad went to dig around. That was about three weeks ago. And I hadn’t heard from him since, which is bad enough. Then I get this voice mail yesterday.” He grabbed a tape recorder and hit play.  
As the tape began to play, through the static John Winchester’s unmistakable voice began to sound. “Dean, something is starting to happen. I think it’s serious. I need to try and figure out what’s going on. It may be- looking-” It began to cut in and out before the last part of the message rang clearly. “Be very careful, Dean. We’re all in danger.” Hitting stop, Dean gave Sam an I told you so expression.  
“You know there’s E.V.P on that?” Sam asked.  
“Not bad, Sammy. Kind of like riding a bike, isn’t it?” Dean nodded in approval. “All right. I slowed the message down and ran it through a Goldwave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got.” He fiddled with the tape and then hit play once more.  
I can never go home. A woman’s voice sighed forlornly after a couple of beats. At this Dean gave Sam an “I told you so” look.  
“Never go home.” Sam repeated, a look of hard concentration on his face.  
Nodding, Dean threw the tape back into the trunk before replacing the false bottom and shutting the trunk. “You know, been two years and I’ve never bothered you, never asked you for a thing…” He stopped there, making Sam sigh and turn away for a moment.  
“All right. I’ll go. I’ll help you find him. But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here.” He said. With that he turned and started to make his way back into the building.  
“What’s first thing Monday?” Dean called out after him, making him stop in his tracks.  
“I have this…” Sam started hesitantly. “I have an interview.”  
“What, a job interview? Skip it.” Dean said easily.  
“Dean!” Claire exclaimed in disapproval, swatting at his arm uselessly as her hand went through his bicep.  
“It’s a law school interview, and it’s my whole future on a plate.” Sam told him.  
“Law school.” Dean repeated.  
“So we got a deal or not?”


	21. Pilot Part 2

“I still can’t believe he came with you, just like that.” Claire said as she followed Dean out of the store and to the Impala where it sat next to a gas pump.   
“I told you he would.” Dean mumbled under his breath.  
“I’m aware, love.” She rolled her eyes as she sat on the trunk’s hood.  
“Hey, you want breakfast?” He called louder, this time speaking to Sam who sat in passenger seat with the door wide open as he rummaged through the box of cassette tapes.  
Seeing the junk food his brother was holding up, Sam turned away. “No, thanks.” He said in slight disgust. “So how’d you pay for that stuff? You and Dad still running credit card scams?”  
“Oh yes, Sammy. Let’s talk about our theft right outside the shop.” Claire said sarcastically from where she was now in the backseat, rolling her eyes as she spoke.  
“Yeah, well, Hunting ain’t exactly a pro-ball career.” Dean replied as he put the gas pump back to its holder. “Besides, all we do is apply. It’s not our fault they send us the cards.”  
“Yeah?” Sam scoffed and swung his long legs back into the car as Dean walked around to get into the driver’s seat. “And what names did you write on the application this time?”   
“Uhh…” Dean tried to recall the names.  
“Aframian.” Claire recited helpfully.  
“Burt Aframian and his son Hector.” Dean completed with a smirk, dropping his goods onto the bench beside him. “Scored two cards out of the deal.”  
“Sounds about right.” Sam laughed over the creak of Dean’s door shutting before returning his attention to the box in his lap. “I swear, man. You gotta update your cassette tape collection.”  
“Why?” Both Claire and Dean said indignantly, having similar tastes in music.  
“Well, for one, they’re cassette tapes. And two: Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?”  
“Respect the classics, Sammy.” Claire huffed, throwing herself back against the seat to slouch with her arms crossed while Dean snatched the tape Sam held in his hand.  
“It’s the greatest hits of mullet rock.” Sam concluded.  
“Yeah…” Dean popped the tape into the dash. “House rules, Sammy.  
“Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.” Claire rhymed along in time with him.  
“You know, Sammy’s a chubby 12 year old. It’s Sam, okay?” Sam said over the rumbling of the Impala as it roared to life and the opening guitar riff for ACDC’s Back in Black began to play.   
“Sorry, can’t hear you. The music’s too loud.” Dean replied smugly.  
“ACDC is never too loud.” Claire declared, earning a smile from Dean as he pulled out of the gas station.  
*  
It was only a couple of minutes later when they were just outside of Jericho Sam hung up and shut his cellphone that he explained his findings from the phone call. “Alright, so there’s no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue. So that’s something, I guess.” He said sullenly.  
“It’s everything,” Claire mumbled sleepily from the back seat, her head lolling slightly. “It means he’s still alive.” At some point she had begun to fall asleep as they drove along, resulting in the lowered volume of the music. The funny thing was, along with the aging as if she had never died, she somehow was able to sleep as well and felt disastrous without it she and Dean had discovered early on. Yet again, however, what peeved the both of them was that sure, she was behaving and reacting as though she were still alive, but didn’t have a physical form. Of all things.   
Nodding slightly in agreement, Dean looked ahead to where a bridge was blocked off by police tape and cars. “Hey, check it out.” He said, bringing everyone’s attention to the scene.  
“What the…” This made Claire wide awake as she sat up to lean forward between the two brothers and look at the scene as the Impala pulled over to the side of the road.  
The three studied the scene for a moment before Dean leaned across Sam to reach the glove compartment and open it up. Inside was a box along with a bunch of other things underneath a jumble of wires, leaving Sam curious as to what else his brother had stashed in there, but never got a good look as Dean quickly shut the compartment and straightened up, obviously not wanting his brother to see what he was hiding. Opening the tin box in his hands, he began to shift through the fake badges and identification cards, then, finally settling on one, smirked at Sam and got out of the car.   
“Let’s go.” Was all he said.  
Together, the three made their way down the road and onto the bridge where police were scouring the entire area, especially the deserted Volkswagen in the middle of the road. There, two cops talked as they studied the vehicle, their words reaching the Winchester’s ears. “No sign of struggle. No footprints, no finger prints. Spotless. It’s almost too clean.” One of them said.  
“So this kid, Troy,” His companion started. “He’s dating your daughter, isn’t he?”  
“Yeah.”  
“How’s Amy doin?”   
“She’s puttin up missing posters downtown.” Amy’s father said sadly.  
“There’s a lead we could use.” Claire stood on her tip toes to whisper in Dean’s ear.  
“You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn’t you?” He stepped forward and spoke, Sam trailing close behind.  
The officer who had been leaning into the passenger side stood up and appraised them with a look of surprise and suspicion. “And who are you?” He asked.  
“Federal Marshals.” Dean flashed the badge quickly with a hint of practise before putting it away.  
At this the man’s surprise turned to one of confusion. “You two are a little young for marshals, aren’t you?” He asked, still retaining his suspicion.   
“Ha, thanks. That’s awfully kind of you.” Dean brushed it off. With that he moved to the car. “You did have another one just like this, correct?”  
“Yeah, that’s right. About a mile up the road.” The officer said, getting down to business. “There’ve been others before that.”   
“So this victim,” Sam took his turn to speak. “You knew him?”  
Nodding, the officer said “Town like this, everybody knows everybody.”  
“Any connection between the victims,” Dean called as he circled the car, watching Claire as she appeared in the car and started a closer sweep of the interior. “Besides that they’re all men?”  
“No, not so far as we can tell.”  
“So what’s the theory?” Sam asked, turning away from the officer and to the vehicle.  
“Honestly, we don’t know. Serial murder, kidnapping ring…” The befuddled officer listed off.  
“Well that’s the kind of crack police work I’d expect out of you guys.” Dean said, earning a pointless slap on the arm from Claire, her hand passing through him, while Sam’s stomping on his foot had an effective result.  
“Thank you for your time.” Sam smiled stiffly before they made their exit. “Gentlemen.” He nodded to the men on site.  
As they walked away, Dean lengthened his strides to catch up with Sam who was ahead of him, then smacking him upside the head when he was close enough. “Ow! What was that for?” Sam hissed in protest.  
“Why you gotta step on my foot?” Dean argued.  
“Why do you gotta talk to the police like that?” Sam retorted.  
At this the oldest Winchester looked at the youngest in disbelief. “Whoah, cummon! He moved to stand in front of him, not allowing Sam to walk any further. “They don’t really know what’s going on. We’re all alone on this. I mean if we’re gonna find Dad, then we gotta get to the bottom of this ourselves.”  
“That doesn’t excuse your behaviour, though.” Claire mumbled from the side, biting her nails as her hair hung like a curtain in front of her face as she looked down.  
Sam however, didn’t answer, instead looking past Dean with wide eyes and coughing, making Dean turn around. Behind him stood the sheriff and two FBI agents who stared at them evidently unimpressed. “Can I help you boys?” The sheriff drawled.  
“No, sir. We were just leaving.” Dean replied. “Agent Mulder, Agent Scully.” He said to the two agents as they walked past, earning a snort of laughter from Claire which made the corners of his mouth turn up faintly.  
*  
An hour after they drove into town and started their search for the Amy girl, Claire came running up to Dean from across street, her eyes wide. “I just saw a girl down there putting up posters for Troy.” She pointed down the street, having gone to scout ahead for him.  
Dean tipped his head the slightest fraction to acknowledge her and was about to speak up when Sam beat him to it. “Aright, if we don’t find her by the next couple streets, I say we take a break and try again later.”  
Giving him a dirty look, Dean was about to rebuttal this statement when Claire piped up. “There, by the movie theatre.” She pointed.  
“I’ll bet you that’s her.” He pointed to a girl wearing a dark brown fringed jacket attaching a poster to the bricks of the building in front of her, his words holding an I told you so tone to them.  
“Yeah.” Sam’s was sullen.  
“Play nice boys.” Claire mumbled under his breath.  
“You must be Amy.” Dean got to straight to the point as they approached the girl’s side.  
At the sound of her name, Amy spared them a glance.  
“Yeah, Troy told us about you. We’re his uncles. I’m Dean, this is Sammy.” When Dean introduced Sam as Sammy, both Claire and Sam looked at him and smiled slightly while shaking their heads, remembering Sam’s word’s from earlier.  
Amy looked at them in confusion before turning away to continue putting up her posters. “He never mentioned you to me.”  
“Well, that’s Troy, I guess. We’re not around much, we’re up in Modesto.”  
“So, we’re looking for him too, and we’re kinda askin around.” Sam beat around his brother, tired of the cover story and wanting to get to the point.   
“Hey, are you okay?” A girl her age approached Amy and put a comforting hand on her arm.  
“Yeah.” Amy said softly.  
“You mind if we ask you a couple questions?”  
Her eyes darting between the two brothers, Amy nodded slowly. “Sure. There’s a place we could sit and talk just up ahead.”   
“Sound’s great.” Sam nodded, gesturing for her to lead the way. With her friend, the two girls lead the boys to a diner where they sat at opposite sides of the booth, silent until they were all seated. “So what happened that night?” He asked, leaning forward with interest.  
“I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home.” She explained after the drinks were served to them. “He said he would call me right back. And, uh... he never did.”  
“He didn’t say anything strange? Or out of the ordinary?” Sam asked gently.   
“No. Nothing I can remember.” She shook her head.  
There was an awkward pause of silence before Sam glanced down. “I like your necklace.” He said, trying to make conversation.  
Picking up the charm hanging off the leather cord, Amy smiled slightly. “Troy gave it to me.” She laughed. “Mostly to scare my parents with all that devil stuff.”  
The boys smiled at this, Claire giving a small laugh as well. “Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil.” Sam explained. “Real powerful. I mean if you believe in that kind of thing.” He was quick to add.  
“Okay. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries.” Dean said sarcastically, straightening up in his seat. “Here’s the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared… something’s not right. So if you’ve heard anything…” He left them hanging. However, when he noticed the two girls looking between each other uncertainly, it caught his attention. “What is it?” He was quick to ask.   
“Well, it’s just...” Amy’s friend began. “I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk.”  
“What do they talk about?” Sam and Dean said simultaneously, making Claire smirk to herself.   
“It’s kind of this local legend.”  
“Bingo.” Claire breathed, perking up.  
“This one girl, she got murdered out on Centennial, like, decades ago. Well, supposedly she’s still out there. She hitchhikes. And whoever picks her up, well, they disappear forever.”  
*  
After leaving Amy and her friend with a thank you, Sam and Dean were quick to make their way to the local library, crowding in front of a slow computer and pulling up the town’s newspaper online database. Following a silent squabble for control over the computer, Dean knocked Sam to the side and immediately began typing into the search bar: Female Murder Hitchhiking. His search however, yielded no results.  
“Try adding Centennial.” Claire suggested, her quiet words filling his ear as she bent over his shoulder to watch.   
Deleting the word hitchhiking from his search, Dean took her advice and added Centennial Hitchhiking to the bar and attempted the search again. Once more, however, there were no results.  
“Let me try.” Sam suggested, reaching for the mouse.   
“Got it.” Dean said in annoyance, slapping his hand away.  
Sam however, was unwilling to back down and pushed his brother’s chair away from the computer, making Claire jump out of the way in surprise as the younger Winchester wheeled himself in front of the computer.  
“Dude!” Dean exclaimed in protest, punching Sam’s arm. “You’re such a control freak.”  
“So angry spirits are born out of violent deaths, right?” Sam squinted at the search bar.  
“Yeah.” Dean deadpanned.  
“But maybe it wasn’t murder.”   
At this suggestion, Claire nodded. “Things are always lost by word of mouth.” She mumbled as she watched Sam replace Murder with Suicide, the simple change bringing up a single result.  
“This was 1981.” Sam cited as he opened the link. “Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge. Drowns in the river.”  
“Say why she did it?” Dean asked.  
“Yeah…” Sam trailed off as he continued to read the article.  
Waiting for his brother to answer, Dean leaned forwards to read as well. “Why?”  
“An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren’t breathing.”   
“The poor babies.” Claire breathed sadly as she too scanned the screen.  
“Both die.” Sam concludes.  
Humming thoughtfully, Dean nodded.  
“Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn’t bear it. Said husband Joseph Welch.” The caption under the picture of Constance’s husband read, Sam narrating it aloud.  
“That bridge look familiar to you?” Dean asked, studying the images from the investigation.  
“In comes Troy.” Claire declared, straightening up.


	22. Pilot Part 3

By the time they drove to the bridge, night had fallen, leaving the bridge and the rushing water flowing beneath it painted in dark shadows. Getting out of the car, the three made their way to the now cleared center of the bridge to look out over the railing and down to the dark depths below.  
“So, this is where Constance took the swan dive.” Dean declared, gripping the metal frame.  
“So do you think Dad would have been here?” Sam wondered aloud.  
“I hope so.” Claire replied, however only to Dean’s ears. “John was here long enough to get past this point before we lost contact with him.”  
Dean tilted his head in consideration before speaking. “Well, he’s chasin the same story, and we’re chasin him.” With that he walked away from the edge to walk along the bridge, his eyes sweeping the pavement as he went along.  
“Okay, so now what?” Sam asked, curious as he followed his brother.  
“Now we keep diggin till we find him. Might take a while.” He said, as though the answer was obvious.  
“Dean, I told you. I’ve gotta get back by-”  
“By Monday.” Dean completed, turning around to look at Sam. “Right. The interview.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Yeah. I forgot.” He claimed.  
“You’re lying sweetheart.” Claire fixed him with a hard look. “I know you don’t want him to go, but don’t screw this up.”  
“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?” Dean ignored her to ask the question in honest curiosity. “You think you’re just gonna become some lawyer? Marry your girl?”  
“Maybe. Why not?”  
“That’s what we planned. The marrying bit anyways.” Claire added dejectedly.  
‘What’s wrong with that anyhow?” Sam asked. “Didn’t you plan to run away and get married with Claire? Why is it so bad that I wanna get out and get married?”  
Ignoring this jab, Dean just gave Sam a hard glare before continuing on. “Does Jessica know the truth about you? Does she know about the things you’ve done?”  
At this, Sam gave an equally venomous look in return. “No. And she’s not ever going to know.” He said indignantly.   
“Well, that’s healthy.” Both Dean and Claire said. Even this Claire had to agree that it was stupid to keep it a secret. What if something happened to one or both of them that Sam would have to explain his history with hunting? Or it would end badly without an explanation? The only reason she agreed with Dean was because she didn’t want Sam to be hurt.  
“You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later you’re going to have to face who you really are.” Dean finished.  
“And who’s that?” Sam dared him.  
“You’re one of us.”  
“No! I’m not like you! This is not going to be my life!” He protested.  
“Well you have a responsibility.” Dean said sternly.   
“Oh, here we go.” Claire buried her face in her hands.  
“To Dad? And his crusade?” Sam said. “If it weren’t for pictures, I wouldn’t even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom’s gone, and she isn’t coming back.”   
At that reminder, Dean took Sam a hold by the front of his jacket and slammed him into the structure of the bridge, holding him there both physically and with a hard and haunted stare as Claire screamed at him.  
“Dean, stop!” She yelled in protest, trying to claw uselessly at his arm, her pale fingers going straight through him.  
“Don’t talk about her like that.” Was all Dean could muster before letting go of Sam and taking a step back. Walking away a few paces, his expression turned from hard to vigilant immediately when he spotted a dark haired woman in flowing white standing on the ledge of the bridge; a woman who was not his Claire, who stood beside him in worry and had not yet noticed the ghostly figure of Constance Welch. “Sam.” He called, keeping his eyes on the ghost.  
“Oh my god.” Claire whispered when she saw Constance, their eyes briefly connecting as she looked their way, leaving chills running down Claire’s lace covered back.  
With that, Constance leaned forwards, her body weight dragging her forwards and off the bridge in a whisper of the wind ruffling her clothes.  
“No!” Sam’s shout was muffled as they all ran to the spot where Constance had just been perched. When they reached the railing however and looked down below, there was no sign that anyone had jumped down.  
“Where’d she go?” Dean demanded, his eyes searching for clues.  
“I dunno.” Sam replied, scanning the riverbanks.   
To their right, the Impala roared to life, its headlights illuminating the bridge. Confused, they turned to look at the running.   
“What the...” Dean trailed off in surprise.  
“Who’s driving your car?” Sam asked, trying to look past the headlights to see into the cab.  
In silence, Dean reached into his coat pocket to withdraw and dangle his keys in front of them long enough to show that what was happening was impossible before with a screech of burning rubber, the Impala began to fly down the bridge towards them.  
“GO!” Claire screamed as the car got closer and the two finally began to run. Willing herself to appear in the driver’s seat, she looked around the inside of the car to try and find Constance, or at least a sign of her presence, but to no avail. Looking desperately at the break, she tried to grab the steering wheel and slam on the brake pedal with obviously, no luck. “Cummon, cummon!” She muttered to herself before trying one more fruitless stomp. All of a sudden the car came to a jerking stop inches from the side of the bridge, throwing Claire through the car and out hard, but painlessly onto the bridges surface. Scrambling up quickly, she looked around frantically for her boys, although only seeing Sam clutch to the metal structure and trying to climb back up. “Dean?” She called. “DEAN!!”  
Her cries were quickly joined by Sam’s as they called out to the eldest Winchester, finally spying him caked in mud and god knew what else as he climbed out of the river and onto the bank. “What?” He called back to them in annoyance.  
“Hey, are you alright?” Sam gasped.  
Lying on the bank, Dean fell back and gave an okay hand gesture. “I’m super.” He claimed, earning a laugh from Sam.  
“Are you okay?” Claire’s small hands came into view as they fluttered uselessly above him. “Is anything broken?”   
“I’m fine, sweetheart.” Dean promised lowly, meeting her gaze briefly before he got up. “What about you?”   
“Got thrown out of the car, but I’m fine.” She shrugged as they climbed up the bank and back onto the bridge to join Sam. “Besides, I don’t even know of think it’s possible for me to break anything. I can’t feel anything anyways.” The last part of her statement was spoken in a bitter tone as they walked up to the Impala.  
“Car all right?” As Dean peeked under the hood for damage Sam asked, taking in Dean’s mud covered form.  
“Yeah. Whatever she did to it, seems all right now. That Constance chick, what a bitch.” Dean shouted in anger.  
“Careful. If she’s still around you don’t want to piss her off even more.” Claire warned him.  
“Well, she doesn’t want us digging around, that’s for sure.” Sam glanced around in worry, also fearing that the ghost might return. Sitting on the hood, he remained vigilant. “So, where does the trail go from here, genius?”   
Throwing his hands in the air, Dean shrugged before trying to shake off some of the mud and grime caking his skin.   
After a couple of deep sniffs, Sam turned to him. “You smell like a toilet.” He said straightforwardly.   
Dean’s jaw hardened as Claire hunched over in laughter.  
*  
By the time they had found the cheapest yet crappiest (as always) motel in the town, the sun had risen and the mud coating Dean was a dried, crackly layer covering every inch of his body. It was because of his disheveled appearance the elderly man behind the desk gave him an awkward look as they stepped forward and Dean threw his credit card on to the desk.   
“One room, please.” He said, smirking slightly at the man.  
Picking up the card, the man studied it long and hard before looking back up at them. “You guys havin a reunion or somethin?” He asked, looking at the name on the card.   
The Winchesters looked at him in confusion. “What do you mean?” Sam asked, scoffing slightly.  
“That other guy, Burt Aframian. He came in and bought out a room for the whole month.” He explained.  
“Of course John would be here. Crappy place like this.” Claire breathed.  
The two boys looked at each other momentarily before turning back to the man. “Didn’t know the old man was here already.” Dean said, his statement not a complete lie. “Would you be able to tell us where we could find him?”  
“He’s in room 10.”   
“Thank you.” Sam said before they left the tiny lobby.   
Hurrying down the small line of motel rooms, they quickly came upon the door to room 10, a do not disturb sign hanging from the knob. Sam wasted no time in taking out his tools and picking the lock, Dean standing guard behind him, and soon enough was able to open the door into the small dark room. Looking back to an oblivious Dean, Sam grabbed him by the back of his jacket in a puff of dried mud and dragged him into the room. After a moment of giving their eyes time to adjust in the change of light, they were shocked to be faced with the messy, note plastered room.  
“Whoah.” Sam breathed.  
“I know John likes to be thorough on hunts, but this is crazy, even for him.” Claire murmured as she trailed her fingers above the paper taped and pinned to the wall on their right. Taking in the images of all the missing men.  
Turning on the lamp behind her, it lit up the surrounding area, illuminating the old hamburger sitting beneath it which Dean picked up to sniff, immediately pulling away as the odor met his senses and he discarded it in the trash. “I don’t think he’s been here for a couple days, at least.” Dean said dejectedly, joining Claire to study the missing posters.  
At the door, Sam dragged his fingers through the salt line protecting the area. “Salt. Cat’s eye shells. He was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in.” Seeing Dean read over the papers plastered to the wall, he got up and crossed the small space to join him. “What do you got here?”   
“Centennial Highway victims.” Dean said. “I don’t get it. They’re different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities… There’s always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?”   
“There has to be something John missed, or something he never got to before he got the hell out of Dodge.” Claire said, analyzing each description of the victims.   
From across the room there was a click as Sam switched on another lamp to read what was attached to the wall there. “Dad figured it out.” He said.   
Instantly Claire and Dean turned around at this proclamation. “What do you mean?” Dean asked, joining Sam’s side.  
“He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She’s a Woman in White.”  
“La Llorona.” Claire whispered in realization, recognizing the term. After her “death,” she and Dean had spent months trying to figure out what she had become. Although aside from the beauty, long dark hair, clothed in white, and still on this earth, Claire held no other qualities pertaining to a Woman in White, resulting in them immediately dismissing the idea that she was one.  
Smirking, Dean turned back to the missing posters. “You sly dogs.” He exclaimed. “Alright, so if we’re dealing with a Woman in White, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it.”  
“She might have another weakness.” Sam mused lowly.  
“No, Dad would want to make sure. He’s dig her up. Does it say where she’s buried?”  
“No. Not that I can tell. I were Dad though, I’d go ask her husband. If he’s still alive.” Sam admitted.  
Humming in thought, Dean shook his head, sending a bit of dust flying from his matted hair. “All right, why don’t you go see if you can find an address. I’m going to clean up.”   
“Hey, Dean?” Sam stopped him. “What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I’m sorry-”   
His apology was stopped however as Dean held up a hand. “No chick flick moments.” He warned him.  
Sam gave a laugh, somewhat pleased to see his brother hadn’t changed a bit. “Alright. Jerk.”  
“Bitch.” Dean returned before walking into the bathroom.  
“Assholes.” Claire muttered as Dean closed the door behind her. Sitting on the small counter space available in the tiny bathroom, she sighed, sending stray fine hairs flying upwards at the gentle rush of hair. “It makes sense that Constance is a Woman in White. All the legends have similar elements consistent with her death. The drowning, whether it was by accident or deliberate, of her kids, and dying near or because of water herself.” She pondered aloud.  
“Yeah, well.” Dean paused in his whispering as he lifted off his t-shirt to reveal his dusty chest. “Either way, it’s a corpse we have to burn.”  
“I’m not sure, sweetheart.” Claire shook her head, trying to not stare at him as he continued to strip down. “I agree with Sam. She must have another weakness.”  
“Okay, fine. Give me one.”  
“Well… La Llorona is always crying out for her dead children, right? And Constance keeps saying she can never go home.” She suggested.  
“So?” Dean turned the shower on and waited for the water to warm, turning to look at her. However, when he noticed her blush and averted gaze, he smiled at her suggestively. “What?” He asked. “Don’t see what you like?”  
Claire huffed. “We go through this every time, Dean.” She reminded him.  
“Yeah, doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it.” He teased before stepping into the tub and closing the curtain behind him.  
“Well good for you, but seeing as how we can’t do anything, we’d both be getting hot and bothered for nothing.” She concluded.  
“Point taken.” He replied glumly. “Okay, so anyways, what’s your point about her not being able to go home?”  
“Maybe going home is her weakness. That’s where her kids drowned. Maybe she did kill them.” She suggested.  
“I guess we’ll see.” Dean conceded, turning his attention to getting himself clean.  
It was silent for a moment aide from the hiss of the water before Claire spoke up. “Make sure you don’t forget to clean behind-”  
“I got it!” Dean shouted a little too loudly, cutting her off.  
“Dean? You okay?” Sam knocked on the door and called out.  
“I’m fine, go away!” He shouted back. “Trust me, Claire. I can feel this crap covering every inch of me. There’s no way I’ll be missing any spot. Unless you wanna help, that is.”  
She simply laughed at his grumblings.  
*  
After an hour of scraping the mud out from everywhere, Dean emerged from the bathroom, grabbing his Dad’s old leather jacket from off a shelf. “Hey, man, I’m starving. I’m going to grab something at the diner down the street.” He said to Sam who sat on the edge of the bed, listening to the voicemail from his girlfriend.  
“Shocker.” Claire muttered as Dean moved to the door, though she followed closely behind.  
“You want anything?” He paused at the door.  
“No.” Sam said quietly.  
“Aframian’s buying.” Dean encouraged.  
“Uh uh.” Sam refused once more.  
“Okay.” Dean said before leaving the room and walking out into the sunshine. He had only taken a few steps when he heard Claire swear.  
“Shit.” She muttered, looking towards the motel office.  
Following her gaze, he saw the old man talking to two of the officers they had seen at the bridge yesterday. Halting midstride, he watched carefully before the motel keeper pointed to him, the officers’ sight leading straight to him. Rolling his eyes in a manner similar to Claire’s words, Dean turned away and pulled out his phone, quickly dialling Sam’s number.  
“What?” Sam’s sullen voice came over the tiny speaker.   
“Dude. Five-O. Take off.” Dean warned his brother quickly, using their code for alerting the other of nearby police.  
“Dean, they’re getting closer.” Claire spoke up behind him, watching the advancing men.  
“What about you?” Sam asked.  
“Uhh, they kinda spotted me. Go find Dad.” Dean ordered before slapping the phone shut and turning to face the officers with a cocky smile. “Problem officers?” He tried to play off innocently.  
“Where’s your partner?” The officer that had given them the case details yesterday asked.  
With a nervous laugh, Dean looked around. “Partner, what... What partner?”  
With that the officer looked to his own partner and jerked his thumb towards John’s motel room, sending him off. Nervously, Claire watched for movement behind the translucent curtain, trying to see if Sam had gotten away just yet, Dean’s eyes following the officer leaving them.  
“So. Fake U.S. Marshal. Fake credit cards. You got anything that’s real?” The officer listed off.  
“My boobs.” Dean said with a straight face.   
There was a smack as Claire’s hand met her face and covered it while Dean was grabbed by the officer and thrown face down on the hood of the police cruiser.   
“You have the right to remain silent. Anything said can and will be used against you in a court of law.” The officer told Dean of his rights.  
“Well in that case. Claire Shanahan.” Dean said between his panted laughs, his bright green eyes flashing up to meet Claire’s worry darkened hazel ones.  
“Stop it, Dean. You’re going to get into more trouble if you’re not careful.” She warned him, trying to hide how the corners of her mouth were turning upwards in a smile.  
The two officers looked between each other in confusion before shaking their heads and hauling him up.   
*  
“So, you wanna tell us your real name?” The Sheriff asked as he came into the small room, carrying a large cardboard box to where Dean sat at a table. Beside him but sitting on the table, Claire watched the man warily.  
“I told you. It’s Nugent. Ted Nugent.” Dean recited.  
Claire rolled her eyes at the alias. “Yes, because no one will suspect that.” She quipped.  
Placing the box on the table, the Sheriff fixed him with a stern glare. “I’m not sure you realize just how much trouble you’re in here.”  
“We talking, like, misdemeanor kind of trouble? Or, uh, squeal like a pig trouble?”  
“Shut up, idiot!” Claire exclaimed, moving to uselessly kick at his leg.  
“You got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall, along with a whole lot of satanic mumbo jumbo. Boy, you are officially a suspect.”  
“That makes sense. Cause when the first one went missing in ‘82, I was three.” Dean was quick to sass.  
“Even I have to agree on the fact that that’s crack police work.” Claire said, hopping off the table to circle around it and the men there.  
“I know you got partners. One of them’s an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing.”  
“Right statement, wrong predicament.” She mumbled, receiving a quick but dark glare from Dean as the Sheriff rummaged through the box.   
“So tell me, Dean,” He threw John Winchester’s packed journal onto the table in front of Dean, earning shocked glances from both Dean and Claire.   
“Oh no.”  
“Is this his?” Dean however, could only stare at it, making the Sheriff come sit on the table where Claire had once been and opening the journal to a page with marine coordinates and Dean’s name written in black sharpie. “I thought that might be your name. See, I leafed through this. What little I could make out. I mean, it’s nine kinds of crazy.”  
“You don’t know the half of it.” Claire scoffed.   
“But I found this too. Now. You’re staying right here till you tell me exactly what the hell that means.”  
“High school locker combo.” His answer was immediate.  
“I don’t believe you.” The Sheriff was quick to call his bluff.  
“Well, that’s too bad for you, because it is.” Dean told him.  
“At this rate, Sammy should stay in law school so at least we’ll have someone to bail your ass out of jail.” Claire muttered, peering at the remaining contents of the box.  
“Sir?” Another officer stood in the doorway and held out a piece of paper to the Sheriff.   
“Thank you.” He said, taking the paper and looking to Dean. “We’ll get back to what that means in a minute. Right now I wanna talk about someone else.” Here he paused to look down at the paper in his hands. “When you were taken into custody you mentioned a name. A Claire Shanahan.” At the sound of her name, Claire froze to watch Dean intensely. “You wanna tell me who she is?”  
Turning his head slowly to look him dead in the eye, Dean’s voice was low. “Claire Shanahan was my girlfriend in high school.” Was all he provided.  
“Where is she now? Says she was supposed to go stay with her godfather in South Dakota.”  
“She died shortly after her parents. We never knew what happened.” With that he looked away, meeting Claire’s equally tear filled eyes. “It wasn't fair.” He mumbled lowly.  
“So basically all you said was a desperate attempt at a joke?” The Sheriff asked.  
Dean didn’t answer.  
“Alright, fine. Let’s try this again. What does that mean?” He pointed to the coordinates in John’s journal.   
“High school locker combo.”  
“Again.”  
“High school locker combo.”  
“You’re lying.”  
Dean huffed in annoyance. “I don’t know how many times I gotta tell you, it’s my high school locker combo.”  
By now the Sheriff was evidently getting annoyed as well. “We gonna do this all night long?” He asked.  
“We just got a 9-1-1. Shots fired over at Whiteford road. ” Another officer poked his head into the room.   
“You have to go to the bathroom?” The Sheriff asked Dean.  
Looking at Claire in awkward confusion, he said “No.”  
“Good.”   
With that he slapped handcuffs on one of Dean’s wrists, binding him to the table before leaving the room and locking the door. Glancing at each other, they smirked as the eyed the paper clip sticking out of John’s journal that had been left in the room and then to the cuffs.  
“If they really wanted you to stay, they would have cuffed both hands.” Claire crossed her arms as Dean took the paper clip and picked himself free of the cuffs.   
“Yeah, well don’t tell them that next time.” He told her.  
“Next time? Great.” She said unenthusiastically as he moved to the door and picked at its lock as well when the coast was clear. Hurrying through the station to get to the rooftop, Dean scaled down the side of the building once he was outside a gun and holster dangling from his arm as he did so before jumping down to the ground and running down the alley. “I’ll bet you it was Sam who put in that 9-1-1.” Claire said as they ran to a nearby phone booth.  
“What else would you expect?” Dean smirked at her as he dialled Sam’s number. “Fake 9-1-1 phone call, Sammy? I dunno, that’s pretty illegal.” He playfully chastised his brother when he heard the click on the other end of the line.  
“You’re welcome.” Came the sarcastic answer.  
“Listen, we gotta talk.”  
“Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a Woman in White, and she’s buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad’s next stop-”  
“Sammy, would you shut up for a second?” Dean interrupted him.   
“I can’t figure out why he hasn’t destroyed the corpse yet.” Sam kept going.  
“Well that’s what I’m trying telling you. He’s gone. Dad left Jericho.”   
“What? How do you know?” He asked.  
Dean glanced at the battered book. “I’ve got his journal.”  
That simple statement said it all. “He doesn’t go anywhere without that thing.”  
“Yeah, well, he did this time.” Dean agreed.  
“What does it say?”  
“Ah, that same old ex-marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he’s going.” Dean explained.  
“Coordinates. Where to?” Sam recalled.  
“I’m not sure yet.” Dean admitted.  
“I don’t understand. I mean what could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job? Dean, what the hell is going on?” The next thing that could be heard on the other end of the line was a loud Whoah from Sam, followed by a thump from the phone being dropped.  
“Sam. Sam?” Dean called over the receiver.  
“What’s going on?” Claire asked in concern.  
Take me home. The familiar words floated through the speaker and into Dean’s ear, making a shiver go down his spine.  
“Son of a bitch!” He shouted, slamming the phone onto its holder before rushing out of the phone box.  
“Dean, what’s going on?” Claire said, running alongside him as they made their way to an old car parked in the alley.  
“Constance. She’s got Sam.” He huffed out, stopping at the car and bending down to pick at its lock.  
“Shit.” She swore.  
“Got it!” Dean shouted, ripping the door open and reaching for the wires under the wheel, hot wiring the vehicle to life. “Get in!” He ordered, throwing himself into the driver’s seat, while Claire had already appeared in the passenger seat.   
“Do we even know where Sam is?” Claire asked as Dean accelerated the car out of town and down the Centennial.   
“There!” He nodded up ahead where the Impala was turning onto an old crushed stone road. Jerking the wheel, the borrowed car squealed as it chased the older vehicle. “Go in there.” He told her.  
With a nod, she turned her head to look at the Impala’s back windshield with intense focus. Turning her head back to look at the driver’s seat, she instead saw Sam, now inside the Impala as it rolled to a stop outside the old Welch house.  
“Don’t do this.” Sam said, his eyes focused on the rear-view mirror. Turning around, Claire stifled a gasp as she saw Constance Welch sitting in the backseat. The moment she laid eyes on the spirit, Constance’s image flickered with a screech. “I can never go home.” She lamented sadly.  
“You’re scared to go home.” Sam realized.  
At this the gears clicked in Claire’s head as she faced back forwards. “Her weakness.” She gasped.  
Whirling around, both Sam and Claire turned to look at Constance, however, only finding an empty seat. Giving a sudden short scream of shock, Claire was thrown through the passenger side door in a gust of cold air. As she landed on the ground, she looked into the frosted window to see Constance sit where she herself had just been seated; however, Constance was clambering into the youngest Winchester’s lap, cooing to him as she attempted to make him unfaithful.  
You will be.  
The three chilling words floated through the air, reaching a horrified Claire before Sam’s tortured screams pierced the silence. Scrambling to her feet, Claire looked over the top of the car to see Dean running towards them. Appearing on the driver’s side, she met his panicked gaze and screamed a single word.  
“SHOOT!!”  
Without another thought, Dean grabbed his gun and fired several rounds, shattering the door’s window and illuminating Constance Welch’s horribly disfigured face. For a second she disappeared, and Dean ceased fire, however Sam’s screams gave way once again as the Woman reappeared, the revamped gunfire doing nothing to stop her. When she flickered away for a brief moment, Sam wrenched himself upright, a look of determination on his face as he brought the Impala roaring to life.  
“I’m taking you home.” He grunted before flooring the accelerator and speeding the car towards the old house, leaving Dean and Claire to watch him crash through the fence and finally the house, screaming his name the entire time.  
Keeping their guard up, they raced through the path the car had made and into the house, calling out to Sam once more.  
“Here!” Sam called back.  
“You okay?” Dean quickly worked his way around to get to him.  
“I think.” Sam groaned.  
“Can you move?” Dean tried to work the passenger door open.  
As Dean tried to get Sam free, Claire’s expression melted into one of confusion, a strange hush coming over her surroundings. Turning away from the brothers, she looked past where Constance picked up a framed picture of her and her children and to the stairway leading to the second floor. Appearing at the top of the stairs, she wandered into the bathroom where the grimy bathtub was rapidly filling with water to the point where it overflowed onto the floor. Tilting her head to the side, Claire watched as the water moved out of the bathroom, to and down the stairs. Moving herself back to the main floor before the water reached the downstairs, like everyone else, she looked around as the lights in the house began to flicker. Constance however, moved to the bottom step when she saw the water drip down the stairs. At the top landing stood her two children clasping hands as they looked down to their mother.  
“You’ve come home to us, Mommy.” They whispered eerily, making Constance’s face twist into one of heartbreak and horror. All of a sudden they appeared behind her and moved to wrap their arms around her waist. Instantly she screamed, their forms flickering into disfigurement, melting into a pool of water before finally, disappearing in a final slurp.  
“Well that’s over.” Claire said, staring at the spot as the brother gave a grunt while pushing away a dresser Constance had used to pin them immobile against the car. Moving quickly to join her, in Dean’s case anyways, they too stared at the spot in disbelief.  
“So this is where she drowned her kids.” Dean recognized.  
“That’s why she could never go home.” Sam added. “She was too scared to face ‘em.”  
“If it meant your own destruction, you would be too.” Claire said.  
“You found her weak spot.” Dean congratulated Sam, smacking him on the chest and earning a cry of pain. “Nice work, Sammy.”  
“Yeah, wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking, shooting Casper in the face, you freak?” Sam complained.  
“Hey! Saved your ass!” Dean defended. “I’ll tell you another thing, if you screwed up my car, I’ll kill you.”  
Sam simply chuckled.  
*   
Although they had figured out John’s coordinates would lead them to Blackridge, Colorado, they now sat outside Sam’s apartment where Sam himself was getting out of the car and closing the door to peer inside.   
“You’ll call me if you find him?” He asked. Dean pursed his lips, but nodded nonetheless. “Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?”  
“Yeah, all right.”  
As Dean turned the key, Sam walked towards his front door, Claire now taking his place in the passenger seat as she watched him go. “Good luck at that interview, Sammy.” She whispered.  
“Sam.” Dean called after him, putting his arm behind Claire and leaning forward. Outside, Sam stopped and turned around. “You know, we made a hell of a team back there.”  
The corners of Sam’s mouth turned upwards at the praise. “Yeah.” He agreed quietly.  
So, with the brotherly moment over, Dean put the car into gear and drove away.   
After a couple minutes of silent driving, Claire looked at him in worry. “You okay?” She asked softly.  
Glancing at her from the corner of his eye, he attempted a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He tried to play it off. “We know where Dad is, right? So that’s something.”  
Knowing he was trying to dodge the subject, she smiled at him gently. “It was nice to see Sam again after so long.”  
Now smiling a little himself, he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, it was.” He agreed.  
Silence filled the air once more as they drove through the town, but once more it was broken by Claire. “Dean, didn’t you replace your watch battery two weeks ago?” She asked, staring at it with furrowed brows.   
Moving his wrist to see what she meant, he saw that the time had been stopped; stopped at the moment they had arrived at Sam’s apartment. Without another word, he jerked the wheel to swing the car around to drive back the way they came. When the building came into view, Dean kept glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “Claire, I need you to go in there and find out what’s happening. I’ll be right behind you.” He promised.  
“Got it.” Claire nodded, and blinking, found herself in Sam’s kitchen. Rushing through the apartment to where she heard running water, she found Sam in the bedroom reclining on his bed with a peaceful expression on his face, calming her nerves instantly. That peacefulness was quickly interrupted however when something dripped onto his forehead, followed by more and more drops. Allowing her eyes to wander unwillingly to the ceiling, she stumbled backwards when she saw poor Jess pinned to the ceiling, a deep and bloody gash splitting her stomach. “Oh my god.” She managed to stutter, her stomach turning to the point where for the first time in seven years, she felt utterly nauseous. It was in that moment she understood a bit of the horror John felt when he found Mary above Sam’s crib all those years ago.   
“NO!” Sam shouted in horror when he saw Jess above him, scrambling up the mattress in terror. In that second he saw her, the ceiling, and Jess, burst into flames.  
Over the inhuman roar of she wasn’t sure what, Claire heard a bang as the door was kicked in, followed by Dean shouting Sam’s name.   
“Bedroom!” She screamed over the roar, trying to let him know where they were.   
“Jess!” Sam cried in desperation, trying to peel his eyes away from the horror above him.   
By the time Dean found them, the room was set completely aflame, with Sam in the center on the bed, pinned to the spot in disbelief. “Sam! Sam!” He called. However, when he looked up, Dean saw the flames completely swallow Jess’ pretty face. At that moment, his father’s words rang through his mind, as clear as they day he spoke them when his mom died.  
Take your brother outside, as fast as you can.  
NOW DEAN, GO!  
Springing into action, he leaped forwards to grab a screaming Sam.  
“No! No!” Sam protested.  
“We gotta get out!” Dean shouted back, grabbing him by his sweater and hauling him out of the room and out of the apartment to safety.  
“Jess! Jess! No!”  
*  
An hour later, they stood outside the building as fire fighters continued to battle the Supernatural flames, the three of them standing in around the weapons filled trunk of the Impala. Throwing a loaded shotgun into the trunk, Sam spoke coldly.  
“We got work to do.”


	23. Bloody Mary, Part 1

Toledo, Ohio

“No…” Sam murmured in his sleep, his body twitching against the leather seat.  
At this both Dean and Claire turned their heads to look at the youngest Winchester, who was obviously locked once more, as he had been for the past few weeks, in a nightmare. “Dean, you have to talk to him.” Claire said, resting her chin on the back of the front bench of the car.  
“I’ve tried.” Dean countered.  
“Well try again.” She shot back. “He’s going to get himself hurt if he doesn’t get proper sleep.”  
“I know, I know.” He mumbled. “Don’t think I don’t care about him, ‘cause I do.”  
“He’s your brother. Of course I know you care, sweetheart.” She said soothingly, moving her hands above his shoulders as if to rub them comfortingly. “The only problem is that you two are very much alike in the fact that you’re both extremely stubborn.”  
“Jess!” Sam shouted.  
“Sam! Wake up!” Dean clapped his hand on Sam’s shoulder, immediately jolting him awake. Withdrawing his hand as Sam sat up breathing heavily, Dean watched him worriedly as he looked around in confusion, trying to get a grasp on his sunny surroundings.  
“I take it I was having a nightmare.” Sam stated.  
“Yeah. Another one.” Dean said as though it were obvious.  
Sam shrugged, obviously trying to brush it off. “Hey, at least I got some sleep.”  
“I wouldn’t call that sleep. That’s more like torture.” Claire swung her legs up to stretch out in the backseat. She knew what he was dreaming about, it was obvious by his words and actions, and she knew the tortuous impact it could have on one’s mind when unconsciously replaying someone’s death, night after night.  
“You know, sooner or later, we’re going to have to talk about this.” Dean told him, his tone like one of an authoritative parent.  
Trying to drop the subject, Sam turned to look through the back window. “We’re here?” He asked.  
“Yep. Welcome to Toledo, Ohio.” Dean welcomed, glancing down at the newspaper in his hand.  
Taking said paper, Sam studied the face of the victim printed in black and white, circled with a sharpie. “So what do you think really happened to this guy?” He asked.  
“That’s what we’re gonna find out.” Dean smirked. “Let’s go.” He got out of the car, Sam following suit and together they made their way to the hospital and towards the morgue without another word. Upon entering the morgue, they found a lone man in scrubs, working on the papers before him. Glancing at the head mortician’s desk as they walked by, Dean made a face as he tried to make sense of and pronounce the name on the desk name plate in his head, shaking his head slightly when he couldn’t do so. As they got closer, the man in scrubs looked up at them.  
“Hey.” He said sharply.  
Dean simply smiled. “Hey.” He replied.  
“Can I help you?” The man said slowly.  
“Yeah, we’re the, uh, med students.” Dean introduced them, gesturing between him and Sam.  
“Sorry?”  
“Oh, Doctor Feiklowicz didn’t tell you?” He tried to pronounce the Doctor’s name, yet failing horribly. “We talked to him on the phone. He- We’re from Ohio State. He’s supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse. It’s for our paper.”  
“Well, I’m sorry. He’s at lunch.” The man said, obviously not buying into their story.  
“Oh. Well, he said- uh. Ah, well, you know. It doesn’t matter. You don’t mind just showin us the body, do you?” Dean skirted around.  
“Sweetheart, you’re unbelievably stupid if you think that’s going to work.” Claire shook her head as she stood next to his left shoulder.  
“Sorry, I can’t. Doc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him, if you want.” The man told them.  
“An hour? Oooh… We gotta be headin back to Columbus by then.” Dean turned to Sam as he spoke, looking for backup.  
“Yeah.” Sam nodded in agreement.  
“Look, man, this paper’s like, half our grade. So if you don’t mind helpin us out-”  
“Well look, man.” Dean was cut off. “No.” The answer seemed final.  
This made Dean chuckle darkly as he turned around. “I’m going to hit him in his face, I swear-” He muttered.  
“Hey! Cool it!” Claire appeared in front of him and reprimand him as Sam smacked his arm.  
Looking to the man at the desk, Sam smiled at him briefly before pulling out his wallet and pulling out 80 bucks, making Dean sigh in agitation.  
“Whatever works.” She shrugged when he looked at her in disbelief.  
Looking between the brothers as if to see if it was a joke, he was quick to snatch up the money with a smile. “Follow me.” He said cheerfully as he got up and away from the desk.  
When Sam moved to follow him, Dean grabbed him by the jacket to pull him back. “Dude, I earned that money.” He said sorely.  
“You won it in a poker game.” Sam stressed.  
“Hey, money’s money in this bizz.” Claire looked between them.  
“Yeah?”  
Sam simply walked away after the man in scrubs.  
Leading them into a room where a table was covered with a white cloth, the man put an apron on before moving to the side of the table.  
“The newspaper said his daughter found him.” Sam stated. “She said his eyes were bleeding.”  
“More than that, they practically liquefied.” The man said excitedly as he slowly pulled the sheet back, as though being dramatic.  
Beside her, Dean breathed in sharply at the sight of Mr. Shoemaker on the table. “Jesus Christ.” Claire breathed in shock; leaning down to study the bodies empty eye sockets.  
“Any sign of a struggle?” He asked. “Maybe somebody did it to him?”  
“Nope.” The reply was quick to come. “Besides the daughter he was all alone.”  
“What’s the official cause of death?” Sam continued.  
The man sighed. “The Doc’s not sure. He’s thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm. Something burst up in there, that’s for sure.”  
“What do you mean?” Sam caught onto the suggestive tone.  
“Intense cerebral bleeding.” The man said in awe. “This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I’ve ever seen.”  
“But the eyes… what would cause something like that?” Sam asked in confusion, the numbers not adding up in his head.  
“Capillaries can burst. I’ve seen a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims.” The man suggested.  
Claire shook her head. “So have I when I was a kid. But nothing to this degree.” She murmured next to Dean.  
“Yeah, you ever see exploding eyeballs?” Dean asked doubtfully.  
“That’s a first for me.” The man admitted. “But hey, I’m not the Doctor.”  
For a moment there was silence, and in that time, Sam and Dean looked at each other before turning back to the man in scrubs. “Hey, think we could have a look at that police report?” Dean asked. “You know, for, uh, our paper.”  
“May as well drop the act, Dean. Because what you’re saying is anything but believable.” Claire told him.  
“I’m not really supposed to show you that.” The man told him, evidently suppressing a smirk.  
All three Hunters rolled their eyes at his response, but nonetheless, Sam took out his wallet and produced a few more bills which he handed to the man.  
*  
“This might not be our thing.” Sam said when they finally left the mortuary and made their way down the hospital stairs and down to the lobby. “Might just be some freak medical thing.”  
“How many times in Dad’s long and varied hunting career has it actually been a freak medical thing, and not some sign of awful supernatural death?” Dean asked in exasperation.  
“Uh, almost never.” Sam conceded.  
“Nice try, Sammy.” Claire said as she trailed behind them.  
“Exactly.”  
“Alright. Let’s go talk to the daughter.”


	24. Bloody Mary, Part 2

After reading up on where the memorial gathering was to be held for Shoemaker, the Winchesters wasted no time in going to the family home where many people were already gathered and conversing. Inside the door, Dean looked around, shifting uncomfortably. “I feel like we’re underdressed.” He complained.  
“I said you should have at least changed into your suits before coming here.” Claire reprimanded him as she bent down to look at the deceased's portrait.  
“Oh well.” Dean mumbled under his breath in reply to her comment before leading them to the back of the house. “Uh, excuse me?” Dean called to an older man who was walking towards the back door. “Do you know where we could find the family? We wanted to pay our respects.”  
“Yes,” The man motioned for them to follow him. Following him out the back door, he pointed to a group of girls sitting in the backyard. “Over there.” He told them before walking away.  
Immediately the brothers began to make a straight beeline out into the yard and to the girls seated on the outdoor furniture set. “You must be Donna, right?” Dean asked, getting straight to the point, looking at the short haired girl.  
“Yeah.” Donna confirmed shortly.  
“Hi, uh, we’re really sorry.” Sam took over.  
Donna nodded. “Thank you.” She said quietly.  
“I’m Sam. This is Dean. We worked with your Dad.”  
The moment Donna looked to her friends oddly, Claire’s stomach did a little flip. What Sam just said obviously wasn’t right.  
“You did?” Shoemaker’s daughter asked doubtfully.  
“Yeah, this whole thing…” Dean shook his head. “I mean, a stroke…”  
“I don’t think she really wants to talk about this right now.” The blonde girl next to Donna spoke up.  
“It’s okay. I’m okay.” Donna protested.  
Looking at her carefully, Dean’s brow furrowed as he tried to get a read on the girl. “Were there ever any symptoms?” He asked curiously. “Dizziness? Migraines?”  
“No.” Donna replied after thinking back.  
It was then the young girl with long hair beside her turned around, a look of terror on her face. “That’s because it wasn’t a stroke.” She said.  
“Lily, don’t say that.” Donna comforted the little girl.   
“Bingo…” The single word Claire breathed out came more so as a question as she tilted her head to the side and watched Lily.  
“What?” Sam was quick to pick up as well.  
“I’m sorry, she’s just upset.” Donna apologized.  
“No! It happened because of me!” Lily insisted.  
“Sweetie, it didn’t.”  
“Lily,” Sam moved to crouch next to the small girl. “Why would you say something like that?”  
“Right before he died, I said it.” Lily told him.  
“Said what?”  
“Bloody Mary. Three times in the bathroom mirror.” She clarified.  
“Aww, son of a bitch.” Claire swore, walking away a couple of steps as she threw her head back in annoyance.  
“She took his eyes. That’s what she does.”   
“That’s not why Dad died. This is not your fault.” Donna insisted, desperately trying to sooth her younger sister.  
“I think your sister’s right, Lily.” Dean agreed. “There’s no way it could have been Bloody Mary. I mean your Dad didn’t say it, did he?”  
“No, I don’t think so.” Lily mumbled.  
“See?” He smiled at her. “Nothing to worry about, then.”  
“Again, we’re really sorry.” Sam concluded before they walked away and back into the house.  
“We had to take care of a Bloody Mary in Ireland when I was twelve.” Claire hissed in Dean’s ear as they made their way up the stairs. “They’re a bitch to get rid of.” Quietly walking through the halls, they peeked at the doors, searching for the bathroom that Steven Shoemaker had died in. “I’ll be happy when this case is over. Anyways, I don’t think they have enough mirrors up here. It’s not really a surprise that Old Man Shoemaker got ganked so easily.” Claire eyed the round mirror they passed in the hall.  
Coming to a stop at the only open door on the second floor, they looked in to see the blood stained floor. “The Bloody Mary Legend.” Sam muttered to himself, eyeing the room carefully. “Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?”  
“Not that I know of.” Dean shook his head. “’Though Claire told me though her family had to kill one before.”  
At this, Sam looked at him in surprise. Not including the time he had been away at Stanford, Sam hadn’t heard Dean mention his high school sweetheart in years. Their first night back together, while Sam had mentioned Claire in an effort to try and make a point, this was really the first time in years that Dean had willingly mentioned her in a conversation so easily and without a fight. “When did she tell you that?” Sam asked quietly.  
Noticing his misstep, Dean thought quickly. “In school. We’d compare notes and see who’s killed what.” Was all he shrugged, besides, it wasn’t a complete lie. The two of them had quizzed each other on various hunts, but Claire had never mentioned the Bloody Mary back then.  
“I never knew that.”  
“Never came up. Besides, the both of you were all for normalcy back then anyways.” Dean said as he turned the bathroom lights on and walked into the small space. “But Bloody Mary, in Europe. Fine, I can see this sort of thing happening over there. But here, how is it happening?”  
“Yeah.” Sam agreed while he looked to the old bloodstains. “I mean, everywhere else, all over the country, kids play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it.”   
“Yeah, but they’re bloody fools for doing so too.” Claire retorted as she sat on the small counter space, watching the boys carefully.  
“Yeah, well, maybe everywhere else it’s a story.” Dean said at the same time. “But here, it’s actually happening.”  
“The place where the legend began?” Sam asked in hushed tone.  
“Close, but sorry, Sam, but no cigar, this is an old and ever changing legend.” Claire shook her head.  
All he received in terms which he could see and hear however was Dean pursing his lips and nodding his head to the side slightly, as though to allow the possibility of the idea. “But according to the legend, the person who says-” Here he stopped as Dean opened the mirror cupboard to face him, allowing Sam to look at his reflection. Sighing in frustration, Sam slammed the door shut. “The person who says you-know-what gets it. But here...”  
“Shoemaker gets it instead. Yeah.” Dean finished.  
“Right.”  
“Never heard anything like that before.” Dean looked past Claire who sat before him and to the mirror.  
“But I have.” She reminded him in a singsong tone.  
“Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror. And the daughter’s right. I mean, the way the legend goes, you-know-who scratches your eyes out.”  
“Actually he focuses on killing baby wizards and becoming immortal.” Claire sassed, rolling her eyes.  
“It’s worth checking into.” Sam agreed.  
All of a sudden, an approaching sound caught Claire’s attention, making her turn her head towards the bathroom door. “Dean…” She said in warning.  
Evidently, he heard the sound of heels clicking against the hardwood floor as well as he moved to the bathroom door just as Donna Shoemaker’s friend appeared in the hall. “What are you doing up here?” The blonde girl said in an accusing tone.  
“We- we had to go to the bathroom.” Dean stuttered.   
Instantly Claire smacked her hand against her face.  
“Who are you?”  
“Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna’s dad.” Dean tried to clarify.  
“He was like a day trader or something.” The girl rebutted. “He worked by himself.”  
“No, I know. I meant-”  
“And all those weird questions downstairs.” It was obvious this girl wasn’t about to let Dean get a word in. “What was that?” For this, neither of the brothers had an answer. “So you tell me what’s going on, or I start screaming.”  
“Oooh, she’s good.” Claire smirked.  
“All right.” Both boys said at the same time, knowing they had their backs against a wall.  
“We think something happened to Donna’s dad.” Was all Sam provided.  
“Yeah, a stroke.”  
“That’s not the sign of a typical stroke. We think it might be something else.”  
Looking between the serious men, the girl shook her head slowly. “Like what?” She said hesitantly.  
“Honestly, we don’t know yet. But we don’t want it to happen to anyone else.” Sam admitted. “That’s the truth.”  
“So, if you’re gonna scream, go right ahead.” Dean told her.  
After a moment of contemplating, the girl looked back at them. “Who are you guys? Cops?”  
Glancing at each other, they turned back to her. “Something like that.” Dean relented.  
“Tell you what.” Sam said. “Here. You think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary, just give us a call.” He took a business card out of his wallet and wrote his number on it and handed it to her.  
With that, the boy left without another word, Claire trailing behind them once more.  
*  
Going to the next step of the hunt, they made their way to the Central Park Library to start their research.  
“Alright, so say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town. There’s gonna be some sort of proof, right?” Dean asked as they entered the building. “A local woman who died nasty.”  
“Yeah. But a legend this widespread, it’s hard. I mean there’s like 50 versions of who she actually is.” Sam said. “One story says she’s a witch. Another says she’s a mutilated bride. There’s a lot more.”  
“Or a corpse, a ghost, Queen Mary the First, the Grim Reaper, or for young women, their future husband.” Claire listed off at Dean’s side as they walked.  
“Alright, so what are we supposed to be looking for?” Dean nodded, listening to the both of them.  
“Well, every version’s got a few things in common. It’s always a woman named Mary, and she always dies in right front of a mirror. So we gotta search local newspapers, public records, as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill.” Sam said.  
“Well, that sounds annoying.” Dean snarked.  
“Looks like it will be too.” Claire agreed, looking to something he couldn’t see.  
“No, it won’t be so bad, uh, as long as we…” Sam trailed off in his rebuttal when he saw what Claire had been looking at, which were the computers taped over with signs saying they were out of order. “Ha. I take it back. This will be very annoying.”  
*  
“Turn the page.”   
Leaning forwards, Dean kept his eyes focused on the book in his lap and turned the page in the book Sam had left abandoned on the table which Claire was currently reading. “You find anything?” He murmured.   
“No, you?” She replied quietly.  
“Nope.”   
Throwing herself back into the chair, she sighed, sending stray hairs flying up. “Dean, there has to be something we’re missing.” She complained.  
“Well, what is it then?” He glared at her.  
Immediately she returned the glare. “Don’t you use that tone with me, Dean Winchester.” She warned him.  
Staring at her, he simply looked at her before sighing himself. “Sorry, Clairey.” He said, leaning back and dragging his hands through his hair, making the dark blonde hair spike up and shine in the early morning sunlight.   
“I know, honey.” She got up to move and kneel in front of him. “You shouldn’t have stayed up all night.”  
“I had to.” Dean muttered, looking back to the book in his lap.  
“Dean, you’re operating on less than 5 hours of sleep; even Sam has gotten more sleep than you have lately, and that’s saying a lot.” Claire pleaded with him.  
“Yeah, well, we need to figure out who’s causing this and stop it before it kills anyone else.” He replied lowly, turning a page in his book. “Can you tell me anything from when you hunted this sort of thing with your parents that we could use?”   
“Uhhh, no. Not really.” This time it was Claire’s turn to run her hands through her hair. “It was in Gallarus Castle, more of a tower really, on the west coast of Ireland; a place called Ballydavid. A servant named Mary had haunted the castle since the last resident had passed...”  
Noticing her trail off, Dean leaned forwards, his eyes wide and gentle. “What happened, Clairey?” He asked quietly, sensing something had gone wrong on that case that hadn’t left a good memory.   
“I almost lost my mother that night.” Her voice was breathy as she admitted the truth. “Bloody Mary was killing people she saw guilty of other people’s deaths, and… she almost got my Mom.”  
“What did your mom feel guilty about?” He breathed.   
Taking a few gasps, she managed to calm herself enough to look up to the ceiling with tears in her eyes. “She had a miscarriage a couple of months before hand because of a hunt and blamed herself for it.”  
“I’m sorry.” Was all he managed to say after a few beats of silence.  
“S’fine.” She laughed weakly, wiping at her eyes. “It was over 15 years ago. We’re all dead anyways, so it doesn’t really matter.”  
“Hey! Don’t talk like that.”   
“Why not? It’s true!” She protested.   
“I don’t care.” Dean said stubbornly, leaning forwards so that their noses were almost a hair apart, had she have been really there. “Your parents might be gone, but thankfully by some miracle, you still are.” When she opened her mouth to speak against him, he held up a hand and continued on. “And I know no one else can see or hear you, or you can’t touch anything, but the important thing is that I can still see you. I haven’t lost you completely.”  
“You may as well have.” Claire whispered, looking into his eyes. “And if we’re going to be talking about personal losses; I almost lost you on the five days.”  
They stared silently and levely at each other for a long time before Dean blinked. “Cummon, there’s gotta be something more in these books.”  
Both returning to their books, the only word passed between them was turn when Claire needed the next page. It was when Sam all of a sudden gasp did the two look up from their books to watch the younger man who was now lying awake with obvious dismay.  
“Why’d you let me fall asleep?” Sam asked quietly.  
“‘Cause I’m an awesome brother.” Dean responded, looking back down to the book in his lap.  
“Dean, talk to him.” Claire begged in a hiss.  
Running a hand across the lower part of his face, Dean looked back up. “So, what’d you dream about?”  
“Lollipops and candy canes.”  
“For the love of God, you boys…” Claire groaned in frustration.  
Sam’s response however, made Dean smirk. “Yeah, sure.” He said, obviously not believing the words, but also not willing to push any further at this point.  
“You find anything?”  
“Oh, besides a whole new level of frustration? No. I’ve looked at everything.” He slammed the book in his lap shut. “A few local woman, a Laura and a Cathryn, committed suicide in front of a mirror. And a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave, but uh, no Mary.”  
Groaning in frustration, Sam threw himself back onto the bed. “Maybe we just haven’t found it yet.” He tried convincing himself.  
“I’ve also been searching for strange deaths in the area. “You know, eyeball bleeding, that sort of thing. There’s nothing. Whatever’s happening here, maybe just ain’t Mary.”  
“But the signs are there, Dean.” Claire mumbled.  
At that moment, Sam’s phone began to ring, Sam immediately answering it with a tired “Hello?”  
*  
It turned out that it was Donna’s friend who had threatened them, Charlie, who had called, in tears begging for the boys to meet her. When they did, she explained how her friend Jill had been found in her bathroom with her eyes scratched out. With that, they made a quick investigation at the scene where ectoplasm and the name Gary Bryman were found on the back of Jill’s mirror, accompanied by a handprint. Now Charlie, Dean and Claire sat on a bench as they waited for Sam to come back with some answers.  
“So, Gary Bryman was an eight year old boy. Two years ago, he was killed in a hit-and-run. The car was described as a black Toyota Camry,” Sam listed off. “But nobody got the plates or saw the driver.”  
“Oh my God.” Charlie said in shock, making the three of them look at her expectantly.  
“What?” Sam asked, having a feeling that he had a hunch as to what the girl was going to say.  
“Jill drove that car.”  
“Guilt.” Was all Claire whispered into Dean’s ear.  
“We need to get back to your friend Donna’s house.” Dean said urgently, really starting to believe Claire now.  
*  
After revisiting the Shoemaker house and finding Donna’s mother’s name on the back of the mirror Mr. Shoemaker had died in front of, their suspicions became clearer and clearer. Now the Winchesters were back in their motel room, the portable printer whizzing away as it printed pages pertaining to what Dean was looking for.  
“Wait, wait, wait.” Sam said in a hurry. “You’re doing a nationwide search?”  
“Yep. The NCIC, the FBI database. At this point, any Mary in the country who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me.”  
“But if she’s haunting the town, she should have died in town.” Sam rebutted as he sat down next to his brother.  
“Not necessarily, Sammy.” Claire murmured as she crossed her arms on the table top and leaned forwards.   
“I’m telling you, there’s nothing local, I’ve checked. So unless you got a better idea.”  
“The way Mary’s choosing her victims, it seems like there’s a pattern.” Sam supplied.  
“I know, I was thinking the same thing.” Dean agreed.  
“Yeah, because I told you so.” Claire scoffed.  
“With Mr. Shoemaker and Jill’s hit-and-run-”  
“Both had secrets where people died.” Dean completed the thought.  
“Right. I mean there’s a lot of folklore about mirrors, that they reveal all your lies, all your secrets. That they’re a true reflection of your soul which is why it’s bad luck if you break them.” Sam listed the already known facts between the Hunters.  
“Right. Right.” Dean nodded, thinking of how this was involved with what Claire had told him. “Yeah so maybe you’ve got a secret, I mean like a really a nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it and punishes you for it.”  
“Whether you’re the one who summoned her or not.” This time Sam finished the idea.  
“I must say then, Mary has quite the twisted sense of justice.” Claire said, before her eyes suddenly flashed to the computer screen. “Bingo.” She breathed into Dean’s ear before moving her lips as though to kiss his ear and then pulling away to pace around the room.  
“Take a look at this.” Dean grinned as he looked over the information Claire pointed out before he looked to Sam.   
“You found something?” Sam asked somewhat excitedly.   
“Yeah hang on.”   
Soon enough the pictures of an old crime scene were being printed and everyone was studying them closely.  
“Looks like the same handprint.” Sam observed.  
“The name’s not complete though.” Claire said slowly, eyeing the letters on the mirror in the image which were obviously written in blood.   
“Hey name was Mary Worthington. An unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana.” Dean read off the screen.  
“That’s not far from here.” Both Sam and Claire said at the same time.  
“I think we should go check it out.” Dean said.   
“Yeah, let’s find out what happened first.” Sam agreed before they both dove back into their work.  
*  
Once they had everything they could find in online records, the three Hunters made their way to Fort Wayne, where their search led them to a former detective who had been working the Mary Worthington case. There the man told them he believed Mary had spent her final moments trying to reveal on the mirror who had murdered her. Any hunches the boys previously had seemed to be confirmed when it was revealed the mirror from the scene of the crime was not in any lock up and had been returned to the family’s care. So, as they drove back to Toledo, Sam called Mary Worthington’s brother to try and find out more about the mirror, and just maybe, get their hands on it.  
“Oh, really? Ahh, that’s too bad, Mr. Worthington.” Sam said into the phone as Def Leppard’s Rock of Ages blared over the car stereo.   
“That doesn’t sound good.” Claire sighed from the backseat, keeping an ear on Sam’s phone call.  
“I would’ve paid a lot for that mirror. Okay, well, maybe next time. All right, thanks.” He said before flipping the phone shut.  
“So?” Dean asked.  
“So, that was Mary’s brother. The mirror was in the family for years until he sold it. One week ago.” For a moment, Sam stopped to scoff. “To a store called Estate Antiques. A store in Toledo.”  
Rolling his eyes, Dean began to think out loud. “So wherever the mirror goes, that’s where Mary goes?”  
“Her spirit’s definitely tied up with it somehow.” Sam agreed.  
“Well she did write on it with her own blood for starters.” Claire pitched as she lie back in the back bench.  
“Isn’t there an old superstition that says mirrors can capture spirits?” Dean asked.  
“Huh, there is that too.” Claire lolled her head to the side as she considered the idea.  
“Yeah, there is. When someone would die in a house, people would cover up the mirrors so the ghosts wouldn’t get trapped.” Sam clarified.   
“So, Mary dies in front of a mirror, and it draws in her spirit.” Dean simplified.  
Sam shook his head though as something popped into his mind. “Yeah, but how can she move through, like, a hundred different mirrors?” He somewhat laughed uneasily.  
Dean shrugged. “I don’t know, but if the mirror’s a source, I say we find it and smash it.”   
“That’s what we did.” Claire agreed.  
After a moment of silence, Sam’s face fell. “Yeah, I don’t know, maybe.”  
As if on cue once more, Sam’s cell began to ring, and lo-and-behold, once more, it was Charlie.  
But this time, she had worse news.


	25. Bloody Mary, Part 3

Breaking quite a few laws in the process, Dean got them back to the motel in record time where Charlie sat on the ground before their motel room, her head resting on her knees as she curled in on herself. Ushering her into their room, Charlie was quick to scramble up onto Sam’s bed before curling up once more while the boys were quick to set to work covering each and every reflective surface in the dark room as fast as they possibly could.   
As Dean covered the last surface, Sam crouched down next to the traumatized girl, rubbing her back soothingly. “Hey. Hey, it’s okay. Hey, you can open up your eyes now Charlie. It’s okay. All right?” He whispered comfortingly. Slowly, inch by inch she lifted her head from where it had been buried in her knees and in her sweater. “Now listen.” Sam continued on in the same calming voice. “You’re gonna stay right here, on this bed. And you’re not gonna look at glass, or anything else that has a reflection, okay? Now, as long as you do that, she cannot get you.”  
Keeping her eyes trained on the ratty carpeted floor, Charlie crossed an arm as if to protect herself. “But I can’t keep that up forever.” She said knowingly, glancing at Sam before looking back to the carpet, tears streaming down her face. “I’m gonna die, aren’t I?”  
“No.” Sam promised. “No. Not anytime soon.”  
Exchanging pitied looks with Claire, Dean moved to sit on the foot of the bed to look at Charlie with a serious look on his face. “All right, Charlie. We need to know what happened.”   
Rocking back and forth, she bit her lip before speaking. “We were in the bathroom. Donna said it.”  
“So your best friend commended you to death. Nice.” Claire shook her head at the same time Dean spoke.  
“That’s not what we’re talking about.” In response, Charlie said nothing, as if she didn’t understand what he meant. Yet obviously, she did. “Something happened, didn’t it? In your life. A secret. Where someone got hurt.”  
“Had to have been if she was so willing not to say it the last time we saw her.” Claire piped up gently.  
When a lone tear slid down her cheek, the brothers exchanged glances.  
There was something.  
Licking his lips, Dean tried to keep his tone light. “Can you tell us about it?” He asked.  
Her bottom lip trembling, it took Charlie a moment to gather the courage she needed before talking. “I had this boyfriend.” She started, looking straight at Dean. “I loved him, but he kinda scared me, too, you know? And… one night, at his house, we got in this fight… and I broke up with him. And he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me. And he said:” All of a sudden, Charlie got a haunted look in her eyes before quoting her ex-boyfriend. “Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I’m going to kill myself.”   
The boys exchanged looks again.   
“And you know what I said? I said, go ahead. And I left.” Choking back tears, she looked back to Dean. “How could I say that?” She asked him, but Dean couldn’t answer. No one could. “How could I leave him like that? I just- I didn’t believe him, you know? I should’ve...” Charlie trailed off before breaking down and sobbing.  
Sam started to rub soothing circles on her back again for a while as he let her cry it out. Looking down at him, Dean nodded towards their gear. “I’m gonna get our stuff ready.” He mumbled quietly before gathering the weapons bag before heading into the bathroom to give the two some privacy. “So, what do we need?” Dean whispered to Claire, opening the duffle to sort through the contents of the bag.  
“Not much really. When we got rid of Miss Mary we smashed the mirrors and burned the pieces.” Claire shrugged, sitting on the toilet seat lid.  
“And it worked?” Dean whispered back.  
“We never heard anything about it again, so I assume so.” She shrugged again, looking down to her hands as she played with the clean white cotton of her dress. “After the fire burned out we got the Hell out of dodge.”  
Seeing the sensitivity to the topic, Dean tried to move away from the personal questions. “You think I should bring rock salt shells?”   
Sighing, she continued fiddling with her dress before looking up to meet his gaze. “If it makes you feel any safer, go ahead.”  
Now it was his turn to sigh as he put the gun in his hands down before turning to look at her. “What is it?” He asked, sensing something was bothering her.   
“Let’s go.” Was all she replied with before getting up off the toilet. “Sam will be wondering what’s taking so long.”  
With that, she walked past him and supposedly through the closed door and into the next room. It didn’t escape his notice however that she had stressed Sam’s name. Whatever was bothering her, it had to do with Sam; and at this point, it could be for any number of reasons. Sighing himself, he closed the duffle and swung it over his shoulder before exiting the bathroom himself. “Alright,” He said gently as he walked into the room. While Claire stood leaning against the room door waiting, Sam still kneeled next to Charlie on the bed. “Charlie, Sam and I, we’re going to take care of this once and for all. And you’re gonna stay right there on that bed and not look at anything with a reflection until we get back, okay?”  
Nodding accompanied with a sniffle, Charlie buried her head back into her sweater and knees.   
Taking one last look at the girl, Sam patted her back as he rose to his feet. “We’ll be back soon, Charlie. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of this.”  
At that, the boys made their way out of the motel room, into the pouring rain, and into the Impala to go to the Antique Store. Racing down the wet blacktop in the dark night, no words were exchanged for quite some time until finally brought up what was on everyone’s mind.  
“You know, her boyfriend killing himself, that’s not really Charlie’s fault.”  
“You know as well as I do spirits don’t exactly see shades of gray.” Sam replied sullenly. “Dean, Charlie had a secret, someone died. That’s good enough for Mary.”  
At this, Dean had to nod in agreement. “I guess.”  
“You know, I’ve been thinking.” Sam continued on. “It might not be enough to smash that mirror.”   
“Then burn the pieces.” Claire shrugged to herself in the back.   
Thinking along the same lines of Claire, Dean frowned. “Why? What do you mean?”   
“Well, Mary’s hard to pin down, right? I mean she moves from mirror to mirror to mirror. So who’s to say she’s not gonna just keep hiding in them forever? So maybe… we should try to pin her down. You know, summon her to her mirror and then smash it.” Sam explained.  
“Well, how do you know that’s gonna work?” Dean rebutted.   
“I don’t.” Sam said honestly. “Not for sure.”  
“Well, who’s gonna summon her?” A pit began to build in both Dean and Claire’s stomachs as realizations dawned on them.  
“I will.”   
At that Dean instantly began to shake his head, not willing to allow this idea into motion.   
“She’ll come after me.”  
Still shaking his head, Dean said “All right, you know what? That’s it.” Immediately he veered off onto the side of the road, parked, and turning off the engine, turned to face his baby brother. “This is about Jessica, isn’t it?”  
“Sweetheart, be gentle.” Claire chided him gently, knowing it was no use as she leaned forward to rest her chin on the back of the bench the boys sat on.  
“You think that’s your dirty little secret?” That you- you killed her somehow?” Dean continued on when Sam refused to look at him. “Sam, this has got to stop, man!” He begged. “I mean, the nightmares, and- and the calling her name out in the middle of the night, it’s gonna kill you!”  
“It didn’t kill you.” Was all Sam mumbled.  
“Now, listen to me.” Dean ignored the jab at him. “It wasn’t your fault! If- if you wanna blame something, then blame the thing that killed her. Or hell, why don’t you take a swing at me? I mean I’m the one who dragged you away from her in the first place.”  
That finally caught Sam’s full attention. “I don’t blame you.” He said.   
The look Dean gave Sam said he shouldn’t blame himself, which he put to words. “Well, you shouldn’t blame yourself. Cause there’s nothing you could’ve done.”  
“I could have warned her.” Sam argued.  
“About what?” Dean exploded. “You didn’t know what was gonna happen! And besides, all of this isn’t a secret. I mean I know all about it. It’s not gonna work with Mary anyway.”  
“No, you don’t.” Sam muttered.  
“We don’t?” Claire straightened up in intrigue and worry.  
“I don’t what?”  
“You don’t know all about it.” Sam clarified, however only vaguely. “I haven’t told you everything.”  
Dean could only stare at him in dark confusion. “What are you talking about?” Was all he could manage to say.  
“Well, it really wouldn’t be a secret if I told you, wouldn’t it?” Sam said, the smallest hint of a smile on his face.  
At this sarcasm, Dean blanched in surprise. Once more left speechless, despite searching for the right words, he could only shake his head once more. “No.” He refused. “I don’t like it. It’s not gonna happen. Forget it.”  
“I don’t know if you can stop him, sweetheart.” Claire murmured.  
“Dean, that girl back there is gonna die, unless we do something about it.” Sam replied a matter of factly. “And you know what? Who knows how many more people are gonna die after that. Now, we’re doing this.” When Dean turned to glare at him, Sam simply looked at him levelly. “You’ve got to let me do this.”  
Glaring at him, Dean said nothing before switching the car back on and driving back onto the road, his jaw set stiff as he drove them down the road and Claire whispered reassurances in his ear.  
*  
At the antique store, Dean and Claire stood guard while Sam picked the lock, hoping Sam’s desired actions would have no ill-fated results. Playing with the tumblers, with a final click the door unlocked, swinging open to allow the young hunters into the store as they glanced around cautiously. Immediately, they were greeted with the image of several mirrors littering the room.  
Upon seeing this, Dean nodded to himself. “Well, that’s just great.” He complained before taking the photo of the old crime scene out of his pocket. “All right, let’s start looking.” He instructed. Immediately they set to work, crowbars in hand as they spread out around the store. While Sam and Dean wandered towards the back of the store, Claire began her own search around the front of the store, doubtful she’d find the mirror, but considered it worth a shot regardless. She jumped a little however when Dean shouted, “Maybe they’ve already sold it.”  
After a few seconds, Sam called back. “I don’t think so.”  
Looking around once more, she began to pick her way through the cluttered room to join the boys at the back of the store; however, something behind a piece of merchandise caught her attention. Tilting her head to the side in confusion, she made her way to the blinking light slowly, aware of the boys murmurings in the background. Peeking around, she felt a flash of dread run through her when she saw the alarm system flashing red. “Oh, crap.” She breathed to herself.  
“Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary… Bloody Mary.” She heard Sam chant slowly before she snapped into action.   
“DEAN!!” She shouted just as car headlights flooded the room. “We’ve got company!!”  
“I’ll go check that out, you stay here. Be careful. Smash anything that moves.” She heard him tell his brother before running to the front of the store to join her.  
Crouching behind an old dresser, he looked up to her for details. “Cops.” She whispered to him. “We must’ve triggered an alarm when we broke in.”  
“Crap.” Dean hissed before looking back up to her. “Go back there and keep an eye on Sammy.” He instructed her.   
“But I can’t do anything!” She protested lowly.  
“You can come back and warn me.” He retorted. “Now go!”  
With a huff and a shake of her head, she flew on her feet to the back of the store, immediately finding Sam looking around skittishly with his crowbar in hand, his hazel eyes flickering from mirror to mirror in the dim light. Looking past him, she gasped as she saw the dirty figure of Mary in the reflection of the glass, standing right where Claire’s own reflection would if she had one. All of a sudden, however, she vanished, appearing in the mirror beside her own. Sam was quick to act as he swung his weapon, smashing the glass with a single blow before moving to the mirror on his right when Mary appeared in that one. Yet still she did not appear back in her own.  
“Come on.” Sam whispered to himself, looking around helplessly. “Come into this one.”  
All of a sudden however, Sam’s reflection, on its own accord, smirked and straightened.   
“Crap.” Claire breathed. This was definitely not something she had seen before.  
That was when Sam started to gasp in pain, from what Claire could only assume was his eyes had begun to bleed as she could not see his proper reflection in the glass. With a loud clatter the crowbar clattered to the ground loudly. If she could, she’d be sweating by now, but instead, she choked back a scream before running toward the front of the store, towards Dean.  
“DEAN!!” She screamed as she literally ran through the front door before coming to a quick stop on the damp pavement. Looking wildly between the two unconscious cops, she then looked up to him in disbelief. “Really?!” She asked breathlessly.  
“Don’t have the time for it.” Was all he shrugged.  
“You got that right. Mary just started attacking Sam. I think. It sounded like he was in pain.”   
At this his eyes went wide. “SAMMY!!” He shouted as he tore the store door open and ran inside, dodging items as he ran. Seeing Sam crumpled and bloodied on the ground, Dean grabbed his crowbar from its hiding spot, and with a yell, smashed the glass into dozens of sharp and glittering pieces, completely separating it from the frame. After watching the frame for a moment, Dean turned and dropped to his haunches to kneel next to his brother where he sat curled in on himself, whimpering on the ground. “Sammy? Sammy?” Dean called, grabbing Sam’s face desperately to tilt it up to get a better look at the damage.   
“It’s Sam.” Sam whispered weakly.  
“Well, good to know his humor is intact.” Claire sighed in both relief and sarcasm.  
Pausing to roll his eyes, Dean wiped at the blood trickling down Sam’s face with this thumb. “God, are you okay?”  
“Uh, yeah.” Was all Sam garbled.  
Glancing back at the mirror, Dean rose to his feet, raising his brother up with him. “Come on, come on.” He encouraged, wrapping Sam’s arm around his shoulder before leading him away from Mary’s mirror, the glass crunching under their feet.  
Claire began to follow them, trailing slightly behind to glance back at the mirror one last time before a pale hand reached out to grab the frame, making her freeze in horror. “Dean…” She called back to him in alert, watching Mary climb out of her destroyed mirror.  
Once she was fully out, stepping on the glass shards, the boys froze at the added sound of crunching glass. Letting go of one another, they turned around to see Mary crawling blindly towards them. As she stood to her feet, Sam and Dean began to groan as their legs gave out from beneath them. To Claire’s horror, not only did blood start to pour from Sam’s eyes like crimson tears, but from Dean’s eyes as well. As Mary drew nearer and nearer, the pain grew exponentially to the point where Dean thought his head would explode as he hit the glass littered ground. Grimacing in pain, he looked to his right to where some of the intact mirrors hung, groaning at the pain and the weight of the mirror as he picked it up so it could face the damn creature.  
As she was met with her reflection however, she froze, her face twisting into confusion and pain as blood began to stream from her eyes.  
“You killed them.” Mary’s reflection hissed at her. “All those people. You killed them.”  
Immediately Mary began to choke, suffocating on her own blood before she began to melt, and then finally, disappearing into a puddle of mirror shards. Those were soon joined as Dean threw the mirror he had been clutching to the ground where it shattered.  
No words were exchanged as all three hunters watched the mirror frame to make sure it was all over before Dean spoke. “Hey, Sam?”  
“Yeah?”  
“This gotta be like, what, 600 years bad luck?” He asked.  
*  
The following morning, the boys were all cleaned and packed up to go, ready to put Toledo behind them. However, all that was left to do now was drop off a safe and sound Charlie. Pulling up to her house, Dean parked the Impala before turning back to the teenager.  
“So this is really over?” She asked.  
Dean nodded. “Yeah, it’s over.” He confirmed.  
Looking between the brothers, she smiled softly. “Thank you.” She whispered.  
Shaking Dean’s hand, Charlie then opened the door and got out of the vehicle. She was half way up the driveway when Sam, who had remained silent up until this point, spoke.  
“Charlie?” He called out to her, making her turn back to face them. “Your boyfriend’s death… You really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn’t have stopped it. Sometimes bad things just happen.” He told her. To Claire and Dean’s ears however, it sounded as though Sam was saying it, not only for her benefit, but his own as well.  
With that said, Charlie nodded slightly before turning away and walking into her house.  
Tapping Sam’s arm, Dean nodded. “That’s good advice.” He said seriously.   
Smiling at each other, they nodded before Dean turned the engine back on and pulled away.  
*  
In a new run down motel, as far as they could be from Toledo for driving all day, Sam and Dean had finally stopped somewhere for the night. Together they patched themselves up before Sam had turned in for the night; leaving Dean alone with his thought, and of course, Claire. In his bed, with a sigh, Sam rolled over in his bed before settling back down and resuming his light snoring. At the table, Claire and Dean watched him for a moment, making sure he was okay, before turning back to face each other from opposite sides of the table. Despite facing each other, they had not spoken a word for hours.   
"You bled." Claire said, studying his face.   
Looking up from the beer bottle he was nursing, Dean looked at her oddly. "What?"  
"Mary made you bleed." She clarified. "She attacks people who feel guilty about someone's death." Tilting her head to the side, she met his even gaze. "Dean... You don't feel-"  
"Stop." He interrupted her with a glare.   
She shut her mouth for a moment as her eyes widened in realization. "You feel guilty about my death." She stated. At this, Dean sighed and turned his head away. "Oh sweetie... It wasn't your fault; it was the bastard who shot me."  
“Claire, even after you had been shot, somehow, you were still alive.” He snapped, turning back to her. “It wasn’t until after I kissed you behind that school that you disappeared. So because I couldn’t keep away from you, you’re now a ghost, or whatever the hell you are.”  
"Well, if I remember correctly, I was just as into it as you were." She teased, giving him a small lighthearted smile. "Sweetheart, I don't want you to blame yourself, because it wasn't your fault. I could have been changed at any other time because of anything else, alright?"  
"We don't know that." Dean countered.  
"Well, I'm saying that it is, and we're going to leave it there." She said firmly.   
"Sure." He said passively, taking a sip of his beer.  
"Hey!" She exclaimed, appearing at his side. This made him turn to look at her in surprise. "You listen to me well, Dean Winchester." She moved her hands as if to hold the sides of his face. "My death, was not your fault. All right? It might have been because of some higher power, or god knows what else. I love you, Dean, and do not blame you for this at all, okay?" Stopping mid-rant, she tilted her head to the side and gave him a small warm smile that always managed to melt his heart. "It wasn't your fault." She reinforced with a whisper. "I love you." Claire moved a hand as if to stroke his cheek.   
Squeezing his eyes shut, a look of longing came across his face as he tilted his head to the side, trying to lean into her nonexistent touch. "I love you too." He whispered back.


	26. Home, Part 1

“Alright, been cruisin some sites, I think I’ve found a few candidates for our next gig.” Dean said as he scrolled through the list of options he had pulled up on Sam’s laptop. On one of the beds, Sam sat scribbling away on a notepad he had taken from one of the previous motels they had stayed at.  
Next to Dean, Claire snorted. “Rock on.” She muttered.  
Ignoring her, he took a noisy slurp of coffee before beginning to list off his possible candidates. “A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali, its crew vanished. And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas.”  
As he prattled on, Claire watched the younger Winchester through narrowed eyes, evidently not paying attention to his older brother. Moving away from Dean, she slowly walked towards Sam to peek at the notepad that he was so intensely focused on. There, in bold black ink against the creamy white paper was the image of a tree. “Dean…” She called to him hesitantly.  
This made Dean’s head snap up to see his brother not paying attention to him. “Hey!” He called out, instantly catching Sam’s attention. “Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?”  
“No, I’m listening.” Sam looked back to his note pad. “Keep going.”  
“And here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times.” Dean held up three fingers. When he saw Sam not watching him however, he held up the three fingers again before waving his hand in exasperation. “Any of these things blowin up your skirt, pal?”  
Sam didn’t respond however, instead flipping through his notebook again. “Wait, I’ve seen this before.” He muttered.  
“Well, you drew it. I’d hope so.” Claire said to herself, sitting on Dean’s bed but so she wouldn’t block his view to the younger man.  
“Seen what?” Dean barely flinched.   
Jumping up off the bed, his eyes wide in realization, Sam made a beeline for duffle containing their father’s journal.   
“What are you doing?” Dean asked, now a little concerned and intrigued about what was occupying his brother’s mind.  
Pulling the journal out, Sam threw it and the notepad onto the bed and rifled through the journal’s contents before coming upon a photo of his family, whole, standing outside their Lawrence home. “Dean, I know where we have to go next.” He said. Seeing where he was going with this, Claire’s eyes widened.  
“Where?” Dean obviously hadn’t clued in yet.  
“Back home.” Sam clarified.   
“Back to Kansas.” Claire said at the same time as Sam.  
This stunned Dean, making him scoff slightly. Immediately Claire could see his unwillingness to the idea. Not just because he was stubborn, because God knows he was, but there was something else, something personal. Because just for a moment, Dean looked like a child; a scared child. The look was gone though in under a second, and immediately he began playing it off. “Okay, random. Where’d that come from?”  
“All right, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right?” Sam crossed the floor to show Dean the picture he was holding. “The house where Mom died?”  
“Yeah.” Dean deadpanned.  
“And it didn’t burn down, right? I mean, not completely. They rebuilt it, right?”  
Dean’s mouth moved for a moment but no words would come. “I guess so. What the hell are you talking about?”  
“Okay, look.” Sam sank himself into the chair across the table from Dean. “This is gonna sound crazy, but the people who live in our old house… I think they might be in danger.”  
“Why would you think that?”  
“Uhh… Just, um- Look, just- Just trust me on this, okay?” Sam scrambled up and away.  
“You’re kidding right?” Claire muttered.  
“Okay, whoah, whoah. Trust you?” Dean got up after him.  
“Yeah.” Was all Sam supplied as he began to pack his bag.   
“Come on, man, that’s weak. You gotta give me a little more than that.”  
“I can’t really explain it is all.” Sam said in frustration.  
“Well, tough. I’m not goin’ anywhere until you do!”  
For a moment, the boys simply stared at each other, not willing to budge on their perspective until Sam sighed, giving in.   
“I have these nightmares.”  
“I’ve noticed.”  
“And sometimes... they come true.”  
At this the corner of Dean’s mouth lifted in a smile as he tried to understand what his brother just told him, unsure of what to now say. “Come again?” Was all he could come up with.  
“Look, Dean, I dreamt about Jessica’s death... for days before it happened.”  
“That must have been the secret Mary used against him.” Claire clued in.  
“Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.” Dean tried to pass it off as he sat on his bed.  
“No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything. And I didn’t do anything about it because I didn’t believe it, and now I’m dreaming about that tree. About our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that’s where it all started, man. This has to mean something, right?” It all came out in one rushed plea from Sam.  
“I don’t know.” Was all Dean said before bowing his head.  
“You don’t- What do you mean you don’t know, Dean? This- This woman might be in danger! I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica.” Sam stood in front of Dean; however Dean was quick to get up and away from him.  
“All right. Just slow down, would ya?” He shouted, his mind whirling. Despite chuckling, Dean looked like he was about to cry. “I mean, first you tell me that you’ve got the shining, and then you tell me I’ve gotta go back home. Especially when…”  
“When what?” Sam asked in exasperation.   
“When I swore to myself that I would never go back there.” With that he turned away.  
“Look…” Sam rose to his feet. “Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure.”  
Remaining silent, Dean finally turned his head to look at his brother and nod slightly. “I know we do.”   
*  
With their bags packed and ready to go, Dean threw Sam his room key. “Hey, you go check us out. I’m gonna do one last check to make sure we got everything.”  
Sam looked at him funny at this instruction. “Dean, I just did that. We’re fine.”  
All Dean did was stare at him blankly for a moment before shrugging. “Y-Yeah, well, I wanna check myself before we go.”  
This made Sam roll his eyes and sigh. “Look, I know you don’t want to go, but-”  
“We have to. I know. Shut up.” Dean waved him off. “I’m fine, leave me alone. I’ll see you out at the car.”  
For the second time that day, they simply stared at each other until Sam sighed and shrugged. “All right.” Was all he said before walking out the door.   
Listening very intently after Sam walked out the door, Dean then straightened up once he was satisfied. “Okay, I know you got something to say.” He said, before turning around. “Talk.”  
Sitting on Sam’s bed with her ankles crossed and her hands folded in her lap, Claire stared at him evenly. “Obviously,” She started. “I can’t stop you from going. Neither would I. However, I am worried." She paused for a moment, gauging his reaction. It was clear by the look on his face he wanted to say something, but he was letting her have her turn to speak. This time, he was listening. "You're scared."  
Like with his brother, Dean's mouth worked, but no words would come out. "Claire, he wants us to go back to the place where it all started. The place where Mom died." He said the last part brokenly.   
Getting onto her feet, she crossed floor to stand in front of him. "I know how you feel sweetheart. If we had to go back to Portland, I'd feel the exact same way."  
This made Dean's mouth quirk up slightly, his expression softening by a fraction. "Yeah..." He agreed.   
Lifting her hands up to have her palms facing him, he held up his hands in a similar fashion in return; making it look like their hands were pressed together. "I may have not known your mother, but I know she would have wanted you to face your fears, be brave for not only your brother, but yourself as well." Looking up at him, she smiled gently but widely. "You can do this." She whispered. For a moment he smiled, however it was quick to disappear as he dropped his head and hands. Tilting her head down and to the side, she tried to get a glimpse of his face. "Dean?" She called to him gently.  
Finally he slowly lifted his head to reveal red rimmed, tear filled eyes. "I wish you were still here." He admitted in a whisper.   
At this her face fell. "Oh sweetheart, I'm still here." She promised.  
"No." He shook his head. "I want you hear like Sam is, like I am, like everyone on the planet; physically here. I want you physically here. I want us to share a room, I want to argue over who gets to shower first, who gets to drive. I want you to be here so I can hold you, kiss you, just touch you. I want you here, I want Mom here, and I want Dad here. I just want... I just..." Here he broke off, beginning to tear up even further. Wiping his mouth, he turned away and began to pace, leaving Claire to stand there as she began to cry, watching Dean fall apart and try to pull himself back together, with her standing there helplessly.  
*  
Later in the early afternoon, the boys were pulling into Kansas, and finally, across the street of their old home. As they pulled up to the curb, both Sam and Dean eyed the house in trepidation, neither of them willing to make the first move towards what could still have been home. After Dean cut the engine, Sam looked to his big brother in concern. “You gonna be alright, man?” He asked.   
It took a moment, but Dean finally turned to face Sam slightly. “Let me get back to you on that.”  
Not willing to wait any longer, Sam threw the car door open and scrambled out of the car, Dean quick to follow his lead.  
Together the two brothers made their way across the street as fast as they dare go. Behind him as he walked, Claire whispered the same mantra over and over in his ear. “You can do this. You can do this.”  
Once on the porch, Sam knocked on the front door. Immediately the door was opened by a young blonde woman, making Sam speechless at her appearance.  
“Yes?” She asked the two brothers.  
“Sorry to bother you, mam. But, uh, we’re with the federal-” Dean began their usual cover story but was interrupted by Sam snapping out of his stupor.  
“I’m Sam Winchester, and… this is my brother, Dean.” He introduced themselves; because if he was going to visit the childhood home he had only briefly in his life, he certainly wasn’t going to visit it pretending to be someone else. “Umm… We used to live here.” At his words, recognition began to creep onto the woman’s face, a smile starting to form on her lips. “You know, we were- we were just driving by, and we were wonderin if we could come see the old place.”  
“Winchester…” The woman repeated their last name thoughtfully. “Yeah, that’s so funny. You know, I-I think I found some of your photos the other night.”  
“Well that’s incredibly convenient.” Claire mumbled in surprise behind Dean, mirroring his exact thoughts.  
“You did?” He asked.  
Turning to look back into the house for a second, the woman then turned back to them with a smile. “Okay. Yeah, come on in.” She stepped aside to let them through the door.  
Looking at each other briefly, the brother walked into the now strange house that could have still been home.  
*  
Flickering lights. The supposed scurrying of rats. A figure in a child’s bedroom on fire.  
The descriptions immediately set off warning lights in the young hunters’ heads, but they kept their cool in front of the house’s new owner, Jenny, and her children Sari and Richie, until they walked out the door and towards the Impala.  
“You hear that?” Sam demanded as their feet hit the front path. “A figure on fire.”  
“And that woman, Jenny, she was in your dreams.” Dean threw back.  
“Had to be. Did you see his face?” Claire pitched in.  
“Yeah. And did you hear what she was talking about? Scratching. Flickering lights. Both signs of a malevolent spirit.” Sam listed.  
“Yeah, well, I’m just freaked out that your weirdo visions are coming true.” Was all Dean could say as they moved towards the Impala.  
“Yeah, well forget about that for a minute. The thing in the house, do you think it’s the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?”  
“I dunno!” Dean shouted in frustration.  
“I mean, has it come back, or has it been here the whole time?”  
“Or maybe it’s something else entirely, Sam. We don’t know yet.”  
“Well, those people are in danger, Dean. We have to get them out of that house.” Sam begged.  
“And we will.” Dean agreed, ducking around Sam to get in the car.  
“No, I mean now.” Sam said.  
“And how are you going to do that, huh?” Dean turned back. “You got a story she’ll believe?”  
“Then what are we supposed to do?” Sam asked desperately.  
Standing in the middle of the street, the two of them stood looking at each other silently, Claire watching from the back seat, until Dean shook his head. “Get in the car.” Was all he said before turning away.  
“Dean-”   
“Just get in, Sammy.” He ordered.  
*  
Not a word was said as they drove through town, each lost in their own thoughts and ideas until it was when they were at a gas station filling up that Dean broke the silence.   
“We just gotta chill out, that’s all.” His voice still held a note of panic to it as he inserted the nozzle into the car. “You know, if this was any other job, what would we do?”  
Sighing, Sam thought hard, his head still spinning from what was going on. “We try to figure out what we were dealing with. We’d dig into the history of the house.”  
“Exactly, except this time, we already know what happened.”  
“Yeah, but how much do we know? I mean… How much do you actually remember?” Sam asked.  
This question made Claire go rigid as she watched Dean’s reaction. Years ago Dean had told her what had happened, how it all began for them; and although it had been hard for him then, he had told her regardless, trying to distract her from what had been the fresh pain of losing her own parents. So now, she watched him closely gauging his response.  
Looking at Sam, Dean’s face hardened ever so slightly as memories began to flash through his head. “About that night, you mean?”  
“Yeah.”  
Dean was silent for a moment as he tried to form the words and shift through the memories. “Now much.” He admitted. “I remember the fire. The heat… Then I carried you out the front door.”   
At this Sam looked to his big brother in surprise. “You did?”  
“Yeah. Why, you never knew that?”  
Sam shook his head slightly. “No.”  
“And, uh, well, you know Dad’s story as well as I do. Mom was- was on the ceiling.” Dean pressed his mouth into a hard line. “Whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her.”  
“And he never had a theory about what did it?” Sam asked, sitting on the trunk of the car.  
“If he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times.” Dean joined him.  
“Okay.” Sam said. “So if we’re gonna figure out what’s goin on now, we have to figure out what happened back then, and see if it’s the same thing.”  
“Yeah.” Dean quickly agreed. “We’ll talk to Dad’s friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time.”  
“Does this feel like another job to you?” Sam asked.  
“No. This time, it’s personal.” Claire answered while Dean said nothing.  
“I’ll be right back. I gotta go to the bathroom.” Was all he said, getting off the Impala and walking around the gas station building towards the washrooms. Rounding the corner, he looked back to make sure no one, other than Claire anyways, was following him. Once he deemed it to be safe, Dean took his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number. Holding the device to his ear, he waited with bated breath until he heard the familiar voice mail instructions from his Dad. Once the beep rang, he began to talk.   
“Dad… I know I’ve left you messages before. I don’t even know if you get ‘em… But, I’m with Sam, and we’re in Lawrence, and there’s something in our old house. I don’t know if it’s the thing that killed Mom or not… but… I don’t know what to do.” His voice broke. “So, whatever you’re doing, if you could get here… Please. I need your help, Dad.” He begged before hanging up.  
“Dean…” Claire began after a moment of silence, reaching for him.  
“Don’t.” He held up a hand, turned, and walked away two steps, tears streaming down his face and beginning to stain her own as they both stood there, for the second time that day, at a loss of what to do.


	27. Home, Part 2

Visiting the garage John used to partially own before Mary’s death gave the brothers very few leads but one: pointing to a psychic. For Claire, however, it opened up a whole new door to her knowledge and understanding of the Winchester’s lives. Sure, over the past few weeks she had caught glimpses of some of the writings within John’s journal, but it was only ever content related to what they were hunting. Despite her interest in what was written onto those pages, she would never dare ask Dean to allow her to go through and read the entire journal. After all; none of the Winchester men were the sharing and caring, well, on the exterior anyways, type.   
Sam, however, was reeling from the information given to them as well. Apart from knowing his mother was on the ceiling above his crib before she was ignited was the only information he had of that fateful night. Anything before or after that until the furthest reaches of his memories went was all he knew. Today however seemed to be the day for learning new things for him; everything from learning it was Dean who carried him out of the burning house, to his father’s initial shock and silence to the eventual plunge into the discovery of the supernatural world.   
As they drove down the main Lawrence road, Claire watched Dean’s face carefully through the rear-view mirror, her trained eyes studying the tightness in his jaw and the sharp gleam in his eyes. Despite wanting to say so much, nothing came to mind nor was enough as she watched his blood boil within. The moment John’s old partner said he had called social services, the family loyalty sparked within Dean, and obviously, the fire had not died down. Thinking long and hard, Claire squeezed her eyes shut and leaned forwards to breath into Dean’s ear the only thing she could think to say.  
“Sometimes, people have a hard time or are unwilling to accept the truth when it’s set before them, love.” Her hand hovered above his shoulder. “Your father did what he thought was right, he did his best. That’s all that matters. He kept fighting; he still is.”  
Dean relaxed an inch.  
*  
“All right, so there are a few psychics and palm readers in town.” Sam called to Dean from where he stood at a phone booth, looking at a phone book. Standing a few feet away, Dean leaned against the Impala, his hands in his pockets and his frame still tense. “There’s uh- There’s someone called El Divino. There’s-” Sam stopped to chuckle.  
“Look.” Was all Dean whispered to Claire under his breath.   
Knowing instantly what he meant, she appeared at Sam’s side to peer around him and at the phone book. After a moment, a name popped out at her.   
“There’s the mysterious Mr. Fortinski.” Sam continued on.  
“Missouri.” Was all Claire said, looking up to Dean with wide eyes.  
Something in his mind clicked, but not completely. Something about it was familiar, but what…  
“Uh, Missouri Mosley. Some dude named-” Sam kept reading before being interrupted.  
Page one.  
“Wait, wait. Missouri Mosley?” The pieces started to form in Dean’s head as he repeated the name over and over in his mind.  
Sam looked towards Dean. “What?” He said, not cluing in onto what his brother had.  
“That’s a psychic?” Dean asked.  
“Uhh… yeah.” Sam confirmed. “Yeah, I guess so.”  
Straightening up, Dean opened the back passenger door next to him to grab his father’s journal from where it sat on the seat. “In Dad’s journal…” He closed the door. “Come here, look at this.” Immediately Sam and Claire joined him at his side as he opened the journal to the first page. “First page, first sentence. Read that.”   
Looking at the page as Dean passed it to him, Sam read aloud. “I went to Missouri… and I learned the truth.”  
Dean shrugged. “I always thought he meant the state.” He admitted, making both Sam and Claire chuckle.  
*  
“All right, then. Don’t you worry about a thing.” A light voice promised with a laugh, making the Winchester’s and single Shanahan sit up straight as a man followed by a short, dark haired woman walked out of the living room. “Your wife is crazy about you.”   
“Is it just me, or did that sound a wee bit false?” Claire leaned down to whisper into Dean’s ear from where she sat perched on the arm of the sofa, making him snort quietly.  
“Thanks.” The man said as he left the house.  
Closing the door behind him, the woman, presumably Missouri, leaned against it. “Whew, poor bastard.” She said to them. “His woman is cold bangin the gardener.”  
As soon as she said this as she walked past them, Claire emitted a peal of laughter, once again earning a smile from Dean. What neither of them saw however, was the small smile that briefly graced Missouri’s face.  
“Why didn’t you tell him?” Dean asked.  
“People don’t come here to for the truth.” Missouri turned back to them.” They come for good news.” She began to walk away, but when the brothers didn’t follow her she circled on them once more. “Well, Sam and Dean, cummon already! I ain’t got all day!” With that she walked into the next room.  
“Oh, I like her.” Claire stated as she stood up and disappeared, reappearing in the room Missouri was in before the brothers could even move. Getting up and following her, Sam pushed the beads hanging in the doorway out of the way for himself and Dean as they walked in, looking at Missouri when she smiled at them brightly.  
“Well, let me look atcha. Ooh, you boys grew up handsome.” She said with a laugh, sounding like a proud mother. “And you were one goofy looking kid, too.” She pointed at Dean, making both Sam and Claire laugh loudly. “Sam.” Immediately Sam stilled at his name as Missouri turned to him to hold his hands with a sigh. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry about your girlfriend. And your father. He’s missin?”   
The three young adults in the room froze in shock, trying to comprehend what they just saw and heard. It was Claire whoever, who was the first to recover. “Of course John would find the real deal in his early hunting days.” She shook her head.   
“How’d you know all that?” Sam asked after glancing at Dean.  
“Well… you were just thinking it, just now.” Missouri said slowly.   
“Well, where is he? Is he okay?” Dean asked quickly.  
“Sweetheart, she’s not gonna have all the answers to your questions.” Claire murmured to him softly.  
Missouri sighed. “I don’t know.”  
“Don’t know? You- You’re supposed to be a psychic, right?” Dean said.  
Instantly Missouri looked at him as though he had insulted her mother. “Boy, you see me sawin’ some bony tramp in half? You think I’m a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can’t just pull facts out of thin air.” She ranted, making Sam and Claire smile widely in amusement. “Sit. Please.” She suddenly motioned to the sofa before moving and lowering herself into an arm chair. As the boys began to sit down, Missouri sat up straight suddenly and pointed at Dean. “Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I’m gonna whack you with a spoon.”  
Behind her, Claire burst into a fit of laughter.  
“I didn’t do anything.” Dean protested.  
“Well, you were thinkin about it.” Missouri rebutted, making Sam smile wider. Rearranging herself in her chair, she looked between the two.  
“Okay,” Sam started. “Soo, our Dad, when did you first meet him?”  
“He came for a reading.” She thought back. “A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say, I drew back the curtains for him.”  
“What about the fire?” Dean was now leaned forwards, eyes wide with curiosity. “Do- Do you know about what killed our Mom?”  
“A little.” The psychic admitted. “Your Daddy took me to your house. He was hopin I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing.”  
“And could you?” Sam asked.  
“I don’t...” Missouri shook her head, unable to finish.  
“What was it?” Sam encouraged her.  
“I don’t know.” She admitted. “Oh, but it was evil.”  
“See, thing is-” Dean pushed, moving to the present.  
“So, you think something’s back in that house.” Missouri spoke over him, completing his sentence for him.  
Sam nodded. “Definitely.”  
“I- I don’t understand.”  
“What?”  
“I haven’t been back inside, but, I’ve been keepin an eye on the place, and it’s been quiet. No sudden deaths, no freak accidents. Why is it acting up now?” She asked rhetorically.  
“I don’t know.” Sam answered. “But Dad going missing, and Jessica dying, and now this house, all happening at once, it just feels like something starting.”  
“Like a snowball going downhill.” Claire murmured.  
“That’s a comforting thought.” Dean muttered, in response to both Sam and Claire’s statements.  
The room stayed silent for a moment as the boys thought long and hard about what had happened the past few weeks and what it had led up to, while Missouri listened carefully to the thoughts in their heads. “Maybe I should go back with you.” The psychic finally said. “See if we can’t figure out what’s going on.”   
At this the brothers looked at each other. “I’ll start the car.” Dean relented, getting up and walking out of the house.  
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll figure this out.” Claire said soothingly as they made their way to the Impala. “We always do.”  
*  
In mere minutes the four of them were standing outside the Winchester’s old residence, waiting with bated breath as Dean knocked on the door. After a moment of what sounded like scurrying, the door was flung open by a frazzled looking Jenny, carrying her young son Ritchie.   
“Sam, Dean.” She greeted them, adjusting the toddler in her arms. “What are you doing here?”  
“Hey, Jenny.” Sam said gently, sensing how tired the woman was. “Umm, this is our friend Missouri.”  
Behind him, Missouri stepped onto the porch to give the homeowner a soft smile.  
“If it’s not too much trouble, we were hoping to show her the old house.” Dean said. “You know, for old times’ sake.”  
Jenny tried to smile, however it didn’t last long. “You know, this isn’t a good time.” She told him. “I’m kind of busy.” With that she turned to close the door.  
“Listen, Jenny, it’s important-” He started to walk towards her before a slap in the back of the head made him yelp in surprise.  
“Give the poor girl a break.” Missouri warned him. “Can’t you see she’s upset?” Turning to Jenny, she smiled again. “Forgive this boy, he means well, he’s just not the sharpest tool in the shed. But hear me out.” At the remark about him, Dean’s expression dropped in shock while Claire burst into laughter.  
“About what?” Jenny asked, oblivious at the moment to anyone but the small woman before her.  
“About this house.”  
“What are you talking about?”  
Tilting her head to the side, Missouri fixed Jenny with a penetrating look. “I think you know what I’m talking about.” Immediately Jenny’s eyes shifted away. “You think there’s something in this house. Something that wants to hurt your family. Am I mistaken?”  
“Who are you?” Jenny finally managed to stutter.  
“We’re people who can help.” Missouri told her honestly. “Who can stop this thing. But you’re gonna have to trust us just a little.  
“Then please…” Jenny said meekly, her grip tightening on Ritchie. However, only Claire noticed that small detail. “Help me.”  
Gazing around the house, Missouri looked past Jenny and towards the stairs. “May I?” She asked gently. Wordless, Jenny stepped aside, allowing Missouri, the Winchester’s and Claire into the house where Missouri lead them up the stairs and into a room.  
“If there’s a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it.” Missouri said carefully.  
Feeling as though he knew the answer, Sam asked the question gnawing on his mind regardless. “Why?”  
“This used to be your nursery, Sam.” Missouri confirmed. “This is where it all happened.”  
Automatically all three of the young hunters turned their gaze up to the ceiling briefly before looking back down and shivering in horror. Suddenly a high pitched whine filled the room as Dean turned on his EMF reader.  
“That an EMF?” Missouri turned to look at the eldest Winchester.  
“Yeah.” Was all Dean provided.  
“Amateur.” Was all she threw at him before returning to look around the room at the different objects strewn about. “Oh.” She suddenly sighed sadly. “I don’t know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this ain’t the thing that took your mom.”  
Instantly the boys’ faces lit up in disbelief. “Wait, are you sure?” Sam pressed. Missouri only nodded in response. “How can you be sure?”  
“It isn’t the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It’s somethin’ different.” A haunted look overcame her face as she spoke.  
“What is it?” Dean asked.  
Flinging the closet door opens, Missouri wandered inside. “Not it.” She called. “Them.”  
“Crap.” Claire muttered.  
“There’s more than one spirit in this place.” Missouri clarified.  
“What are they doing here?” Dean thought aloud.   
“They’re here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes, wounds get infected.” She explained.  
“I don’t understand.” Sam said desperately.  
“This place is a magnet for paranormal energy. It’s attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won’t rest until Jenny and her babies are dead.”  
“You said there was more than one spirit.”  
“There is.”  
“They’ve festered.” Claire mused quietly.   
“I just can’t make out the second one.” Missouri looked around in confusion and concern.  
“Well, one thing’s for damn sure.” Dean finally spoke up. “Nobody’s dying in this house ever again. So whatever is here, how do we stop it?”  
*  
Throwing a freshly compiled sack to one part of the table as his brother watched, Dean reached for another scrap of cloth before reaching to the different items held in bowls and boxes on the table. “So, what is all this stuff, anyways?” He asked Missouri as she rummaged through a cupboard behind Sam.  
“Angelica root, Van Van oil, crossroad dirt.” She listed off. “A few other odds and ends.”  
“Yeah? What are we supposed to do with it?” He glanced up at Claire to see if she knew, however she remained silent, her face unreadable.  
“We’re gonna put them inside the walls, in the north, south, east, and west corners on each floor of the house.” Missouri explained as she sat across the table from him.  
“We’re gonna be punching holes in the dry wall, Jenny’s gonna love that.” Dean muttered.   
“If it protects her family, she won’t mind, sweetheart.” Claire chided him.  
“She’ll live.” Missouri retorted.  
“And this will destroy the spirits?” Sam asked.  
“It should.” Missouri nodded. “It should purify the house completely. We’ll each take a floor. But we work fast. Once the spirits realize what we’re up to, things are gonna get bad.”  
*  
With Missouri thankfully convincing Jenny to have her family vacate the Winchester’s previous residence for a couple hours, the Hunters and psychic immediately set to work once the young family was gone. In the kitchen, Dean set to work looking for a suitable place to smash into the wall to place the protection bag while Claire kept a lookout.  
“Dean.”   
“Yeah?” He murmured back quietly.   
“Cutlery drawer, behind you.” She reported, sitting on the kitchen table while watching the draw in question contentedly.  
“Keep watching it.” He replied before beginning to tap into the wall with his hatchet.  
Below them there was a scream.  
Behind Dean, there was the sound of scraping metal.  
“Dean, love. Hurry.” Claire breathed in panic.  
He turned however instead just in time to see a kitchen knife fly straight at him, dropping to the floor so that it imbedded itself in the cabinet door rather than in his skull. Moving quickly, he yanked the kitchen table so that he could flip it onto its side and use it as a shield while more cutlery flew towards him. At the same time however, he sent Claire rolling off the table as he jerked it away from underneath her. “Sorry.” He grunted.  
“You alright?” Claire called, ignoring his apology.  
“Yeah.”  
Above them there was a loud thumping.  
“Sam!” Claire and Dean shouted at the same time, scrambling to their feet.   
Throwing the bag into the hole in the wall, Dean whirled back to Claire. “Go see what’s going on!” He ordered, running out of the room.   
Blinking, she fell to her knees as she appeared in the master bedroom where Sam was, lying on the floor almost passed out with a lamp cord around his neck. “DEAN!” She screamed as he appeared in the doorway.  
“Sam!” Dean shouted, running into the room. Dropping down next to his brother, he called out to him again as he pulled on the taut cord, trying desperately to loosen it but to no avail. Looking around, he spotted the spell bag and dove for it before kicking a hole in the wall and throwing it inside. Immediately there was a flash and an inhuman growling which disappeared as fast as it had appeared. On the floor, Sam gasped for air. Scrambling over, Dean pulled him up and ripped the cord away. “Come on.” He encouraged, pulling Sam into a tight hug after he was free from the cord. “I gotcha.”


	28. Home, Part 3

“Give me a minute, I’ll be back.” Dean called to Sam as he got out of the Impala and made his way across the gas station grounds.  
“You remember the PIN?” Claire asked as they walked towards the ATM.  
“Your birthday. I know. I got it.” Dean mumbled under his breath as they walked past a lady filling up her car with gas. “You know you don’t have to do this. We’re the ones that made the mess; we should be the ones paying for it.”  
“You don’t nearly have enough, Dean. Besides, my family’s made a fortune by Hunting through the generations. The money’s just sitting there collecting interest; it’s good that it’s put to use once and a while for more than just feeding the two of you.” She reminded him.  
Sticking Claire’s old debit card into the machine, Dean waited for the prompts before typing in 0713 on the keypad and being granted access to the account. Eyeing the amount displayed in the account, Dean gave a breathy laugh. “You know, we go through this every time we do this.” He said, inputting the amount he wanted.   
Claire shrugged. “Stop arguing with me, then. You know I always win in the end anyways.” She teased.   
Removing the cash, card and receipt from the ATM, Dean grinned. “Yeah, but that’s no fun.” He teased back before putting the couple hundred in cash into his jacket pocket. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I don’t know how your family’s been able to make a solid living off of Hunting.”  
“We do it globally and professionally while remaining underground.” Claire said, repeating what she had told him before. “Besides, how do you think my parents were able to afford that house in Portland?”  
Dean was about to reply when Sam got out of the car as they got closer. “We need to go back to Jenny’s.” He said breathlessly.  
*  
Only the sounds of crickets filled the air as the three Hunter sat in the Impala across the street from Jenny’s house, keeping an eye on the place per Sam’s urgent request.  
“Alright, so tell me again, what are we still doing here?” Dean lolled his head towards Sam, voicing his frustration. In the backseat, Claire’s face fell at his tone. It was evident he wanted to put his hometown and old home behind them, for the anxiety he felt continued to grow substantially.   
“I dunno.” Sam admitted. “I- I just- I still have a bad feeling.” He said as he watched the house across the street.   
“Why?” Dean turned to look as well. “Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubinstein thing. The house should be clean. This should be over.”  
“Yeah, well probably. But I just wanna make sure, that's all.”  
This made Dean sigh in annoyance as he slouched in his seat. “Yeah, well, problem is, I could be sleeping in a bed right now.”  
“Dean.” Sam said slowly before smacking him in the chest. “Dean!” He shouted as he scrambled out of the car, making Dean and Claire look towards the house. There in the master bedroom window, Jenny was pounding on the glass, screaming in fright. The pair were quick to follow Sam's movement as they all ran to the house.   
“You get the kids, I'll grab Jenny!” Dean ordered as they sprinted across the yard.   
“I'll go inside!” Claire shouted as she ran with them, before whirling around and appearing in Sari’s, the daughter’s, room.   
Looking at the little girl, she watched the crying girl’s face as it was suddenly illuminated by firelight. Turning to face the open closet, she moved into a protective stance in front of the bed when she spotted the fiery figure, despite knowing her actions would do no good. “Dear god…” She breathed in shock as it moved towards them.   
Outside down the hall, she heard Dean and Jenny shouting at one another while Sam burst into the room carrying Richie. “Help. Please!” Sari cried in fear, clutching her blankets tightly.   
Sticking close to the wall and protecting Richie, Sam moved to the bed and picked up Sari who immediately clung to him.   
“Come here. Come here. Don't look. Don't look!” He urged her as he moved the three of them out of the room, down the hall, and down the stairs. In the main hall, he stopped with wide eyes and put the children down.   
“Sam! What are you doing? Go!” Claire screamed uselessly at him as she ran down the stairs.   
“Alright, Sari, take your brother outside as fast as you can. And don't look back.” He told the little girl, unknowingly paraphrasing what his father had told Dean so many years ago. As soon as he said that however, there was a roar and Sam was taken off his feet and dragged down the hall, making Sari and Claire scream. Sari was the quickest to react however as she took her brother’s hand and tore out the front door, while Claire was impossibly sent off her feet as well as some invisible force knocked her over as it dragged Sam into the kitchen.   
In the front hall, the door slammed shut.   
In the kitchen, Sam was getting tossed around, being thrown from wall to wall. And while he couldn't see her, Claire was shockingly being thrown around as well.   
“Oh. Bloody. Hell.” She grunted, as she collided with the wall opposite from Sam, at the same time he muttered Oh, God. Looking up, Claire was able to get a glimpse of a grimy figure appear in her view.  
Look, a new pretty girlie in white to play with. The poltergeist hissed with glee before disappearing again and sending both her and Sam flying once more. “This. Shouldn't. Be. Happening!” Claire screamed before being thrown into the living room to be forgotten about while Sam was thrown into and pressed against a cabinet, making him scream in anger and pain. At the front door, there was an explosion of wood before Dean's voice was heard.   
“Sam!”   
“Kitchen!” Claire screamed from where she lay crumpled on the ground. Behind her, there was an eruption of flames as the flames figure from Sari’s room appeared. Leaning down, it reached towards Claire, who remained silent in wide eyed fear. Instead of harming her however, it gently took her by the hands and helped her up off the floor. Rising to her feet, Claire studied the flaming figure before looking to their hands. For the first time in seven years, Claire felt something: warmth, not a burning heat like what one would expect when coming into contact with fire. Instead, all she felt was the gentle, warm, and welcoming touch. Looking up to the figure, she squinted her eyes before they widened in shock. “Impossible…” She whispered, realizing who this was. Tilting its head to the side, it nodded before turning away, back towards the kitchen and to where Sam was pinned at attention against the cabinet. Following the figure in curiosity, the two paused in the kitchen to look at Sam and Dean as he entered the room as well. While fear had once dominated Sam’s face, realization and understanding began to dawn as he studied the unseen Claire’s company, almost seeing through the fire.  
Upon seeing the figure, Dean raised his rifle with a look of determination, but was stopped from firing when Sam shouted at him in panic. “No! Don’t! Don’t!”  
“What? Why?” Dean shouted back, looking to Claire, confusion filled his eyes when he saw how close she stood to the figure and how she shook her head slightly.  
Finally, the flames began to die down, begin to shape a full, defined feminine form.  
“Because I know who it is. I can see her now.” Sam said quietly as the image of Mary Winchester fully and finally formed with a smile.  
Upon meeting the gaze of his mother, the weapon in Dean’s hand began to shake before he lowered it. “Mom?” He asked in a small, rough voice.  
Smiling wider at the sound of his voice, Mary walked forwards to stand in front of him. “Dean.” She said in recognition, making him laugh slightly, tears filling his eyes. Almost unwillingly, she then slowly tore her eyes from Dean’s to move to Sam, standing in front of him to look at her baby. Both Sam and Mary studied each other almost hungrily, taking in each other’s features and committing them to memory, making up for what was taken from them so long ago. “Sam.” Sorrow began to cloud Mary’s features after she spoke his name. It was Sam, not Sammy. Sammy was her baby, but her baby was all grown up. All grown up and without her.  
Sam however, either didn’t notice or didn’t care as he smiled at the sound of his mother speaking his name, making tears fill his eyes.  
“I’m sorry.”  
He noticed this however; all three young Hunters did, filling them with confusion. “For… for what?” He whispered, not understanding what Mary meant. Sorry for being killed? Sorry for not being able to be there for him growing up? Sorry he had to grow up to be a Hunter?  
Mary never responded however, her eyes lingering on her youngest child’s face before turning away and looking to the ceiling with a set look of determination on her own face. “You, get out of my house.” She spoke to the poltergeist. “And let go of my son.” She concluded before bursting into flames, making Sam, Dean and Claire flinch in shock as they watched Mary’s fiery form fly up to the ceiling and swarm around an invisible force before suddenly disappearing as the pressure against Sam vanished.  
Mom? Dean mouthed, looking around for a sign that she may still be present. When his eyes landed on Claire however, she shook her head sadly as tears began to fall around the room.   
“Now it’s over.” Sam declared quietly.  
*  
“Thanks for these.” Dean said earnestly to Jenny as they stood next to the Impala, looking through the toolbox and photos John had left behind in the basement so long ago.  
“Don’t thank me. They’re yours.” She smiled.  
Smiling to herself, Claire stood in the middle of the lawn, looking up to the house as Missouri came out of it to sit next to Sam on the steps. If Mary had never died, the boys would still be here, and Claire would never have met them. Would she herself even end up in America, though, were that the case? No matter the ifs, Mary had still died up in that little girl’s, once little boy’s, bedroom; and Sam and Dean were raised in the hunting life like Claire was. The three did meet, and here they all were, even if Sam did know she was there.  
“Your mom’s spirit and the poltergeist’s energy, they cancelled each other out. Your mom destroyed herself going after the thing.” Clair heard Missouri say to Sam, making her suck in a breath of shock. Glancing to Dean across the road, she hoped to God he never heard or would ever hear what had happened to his mother in the end. The feeling of overwhelming loss he felt for his mother was still too great, Claire knew, and despite the fact that he had the right to know, Claire prayed to God that he would never find out.  
“Why would she do something like that?” Sam asked, his voice breaking.  
“Well, to protect her boys, of course.” Missouri told him knowingly. “Sam, I’m sorry.” She said finally, after almost touching his shoulder in comfort.   
“For what?” Sam turned back to her.  
“You sensed it was here, didn’t you? Even when I couldn’t.”  
Sam’s mouth worked to try and come up with the proper words to convey what he was saying, what he was think, but only came up with one sentence. “What’s happening to me?”  
“I know I should have all the answers, but... I don’t know.” The psychic shook her head.  
“Sam, you ready?” Dean called to his little brother.  
Looking to the people who had surrounded her for the last couple days, Claire bowed her head and appeared in the back seat of the Impala, watching as the boys said their goodbyes.  
“Don’t you boys be strangers.” Missouri called to them.   
“We won’t.” Dean called back.  
“See you around.” Both Missouri and Claire knew however it would be a long time before the Winchesters stepped another foot in Lawrence, if ever again.  
With a final look to the old house, Sam and Dean got into the car and put it behind them, not noticing the big truck hiding behind the corner as they drove past.  
*  
Feeling rather weary, Missouri closed her door behind her and made her way into her house, stopping with a sigh at her table to put down her bag. She stood there silent for a moment with a hand on her hip, thinking about Dean and Sam. There was something about Dean, not in a way of his character, but about his soul. It might have something to do with what she caught a glimpse of in his mind, but even then, that was almost nothing compared to young Sam.   
“That boy… He has such powerful abilities.” She said as though to herself. Then, turning to the sitting room, she walked in with a confused look on her face. “But why he couldn’t sense his own father, I have no idea.” Stopping in the doorway, she looked at a tired and battered looking John Winchester sitting on her sofa where Dean had been sitting hours before, with his head in his hands.  
John said nothing in response, only rubbing at his face before rubbing his hands together and finally meeting Missouri’s gaze. “Mary’s spirit…” He finally said. “Do you really think she saved the boys?” His voice was rough with the pent up emotion that he refused to let through.   
Missouri looked away, thinking before answering the man’s question. “I do.” She nodded. At this tears began to build up in John’s eyes as he studied the simple silver band on his left hand’s ring finger, twisting it slightly as memories flooded his mind. “John Winchester, I could just slap you. Why don’t you go talk to your children?” Missouri told him, her tone disapproving.  
“God, I want to.” John mumbled, keeping his eyes trained on his wedding ring as he continued to twist it around his finger. “You have no idea how much I wanna see them. But I can’t.” He looked up, a distant look in his eyes. “Not yet.” He finally looked back to Missouri who simply gazed at him calmly. “Not until I know the truth.”  
"You should at least call them, let them know you're still alive." She said, walking into the room and sitting in her chair across from him. "They deserve that much."  
John sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "How are they?"   
"Well..." Missouri folded her hands in her lap. "Sam, he knew something was still there in that old house of yours. He did when I couldn't. That boy of yours, John..." She looked up at him. "You should keep an eye on him."  
"Mmmhhhh..." He hummed thoughtfully, looking down as he rested his hands against his mouth.   
They sat there silently, both wrapped up in their own thoughts for a long time. Then, slightly reluctantly, Missouri spoke up. "John, who was she?"  
He lifted his gaze to meet hers in confusion. "Who?"  
"A young woman. No one can see her but Dean, but I sensed her. I could feel something different about him when he first walked into my house."   
His worn brow crinkled in confusion as he stared at her. "What did she look like?"   
"Oh, beautiful thing she was." Missouri sighed. "Almost too beautiful. She's about Dean's age. Got long, curly dark hair, bright eyes, white dress."   
At the description, John's eyes widened in shock and worry, his mind flashing back to Dean all those years ago sitting in a small motel room smiling widely, a girl in dressed in white laughing in his arms. "It can't be..." He murmured.  
Missouri straightened up, a spark in her eyes. "Her." She said, seeing the image of a young Dean and Claire in John's mind. "That's her. Older, but that's her."  
"That's impossible." He shook his head in disbelief. "It can't be her, she died."  
Tilting her head to the side, she studied him curiously. "Who is she, John? Tell me about Claire Shanahan."  
At the sound of her name, John shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut. "'98, we were in Portland. Just another job at first. Some kind of light had been seen in the city and I was looking into it, never did find out what it was. Sam and Dean met Claire their first day of school. They took an instant liking to each other. Claire and Dean especially." At this point he stopped to smile a little before it faded. "After she absorbed the light I kept her with us, under watch. Dean wasn't too happy about how I handled it, but I didn't want to risk any chance of her hurting my boys. But she never would, she cared about them too much." John then smiled again and laughed slightly. "I thought it was just some stupid teen crush they had, they only knew each other for a month. After she died though, Dean was a mess for the longest time, like I was after I last Mary. He dropped school, tried after a while to put up an act, pretending he was fine. But you could see it in his eyes," He shook his head. "He wasn't all there. I'd catch him sometimes staring at nothing, or, talking as if she was there in the room with him when he thought he was alone..."  
"Maybe she never left him," Missouri said, processing the man's words and watching his memories. "And not in the way that lost loved ones are always with us in our hearts."  
John shook his head again, this time in denial. "That's impossible, not without her becoming an evil spirit."  
"I don't think so," This time it was Missouri's turn to shake her head. "With true love, anything is possible. Look at Mary." She smiled.  
"You know, that month was the happiest I've ever seen Dean since all of this started." His head dropped back into his hands. "I don't think I'll ever see him that happy again."


	29. Route 666 Part 1

“She never would have called, never, if she didn’t need us.”  
When Dean had said this at a gas station after abruptly switching the Impala’s destination, Claire hadn’t said a single word or moved an inch in her spot in the back seat. He was glancing in the rearview mirror trying to catch her gaze when Sam said “By old friend, you mean…”  
“A friend that’s not new.” Dean simply replied, giving up on Claire momentarily to focus on the road, not at all enjoying the atmosphere in the car.  
“Yeah, thanks.” Sam laughed sarcastically. “So, her name’s Cassie, huh? You never mentioned her.”  
Dean expected Claire to make some kind of quip at this comment, yet she continued to remain silent in the backseat. “Didn’t I?”  
“No.”  
“Yeah, we went out.”  
“You mean you dated someone? You dated someone other than Claire for more than one night?” Sam was actually quite surprised.  
Glancing at his brother, Dean obviously didn’t share the feeling. “Am I speaking a language that you’re not gettin here? Yeah, Dad and I were workin a job in Athens, Ohio and she was finishin up college, and we went out for a couple of weeks.”  
“And?” Sam got no response however, only a face from Dean. “Look, it’s terrible about her Dad, but, kinda sounds like a standard car accident. I’m not seeing how it fits with what we do. Which, by the way, how does she know what we do?” Again, Dean didn’t reply. This however gave Sam all he needed to know, making anger quickly bubble up within. “You told her.” He deadpanned. “You told her? The secret. Our big family rule number one we do what we do, and we shut up about it. For a year and a half I do nothing but lie to Jessica and you go out with this chick from Ohio a couple of times and tell her everything? At least with Claire, she was one of us. You could talk to her about the things we’ve seen and done. But no one outside of that! I can’t believe you told someone everything!” When it was clear Dean was ignoring him, Sam’s anger bubbled again. “Dean!”  
“Yeah! Looks like.” Dean finally said, though shortly as he stepped a little harder on the gas.  
Still not a single wisecrack or response from Claire to counter or agree with Sam’s arguments, or at the mention of herself, although she finally lifted her gaze to look at Dean in the rearview mirror as he sped them faster down the highway. Despite this, despite being together for seven years, Dean couldn’t read Claire’s expression.   
And that worried him.  
*  
He finally relaxed however when she finally spoke when they entered the newspaper office in Cape Girardeau and their gaze landed on Cassie.   
“Despite her father recently dying, she looks well.” Claire noted politely, folding her hands behind her back.  
Discreetly nodding in agreement, Dean suddenly whacked his brother in the arm when Sam muttered “She’s pretty. Do you have a thing for girls with curly hair, Dean?”  
“Claire’s hair wasn’t that curly.” He hissed, glancing at said woman, who stiffened at Sam’s joke, as he spoke.  
“No, but my point still stands.” Sam teased.  
“Bitch.” Dean muttered.  
“Jerk.” Sam grinned.  
“You’re both assholes.” Claire said coolly, watching the mayor carefully as he walked away, having finished whatever he said to piss off Cassie and the man next to her.  
She tensed again however when Cassie turned and saw the two brothers standing behind her, a look of relief washing over here. “Dean.” Cassie said almost thankfully.  
“Hey, Cassie.” Dean gave her a small smile. The two of them stepped towards one another as they studied each other, leaving Sam and Claire to watch on; Sam in amusement and Claire watching simply with a level and unreadable look. When Dean finally realized the old lovers were being watched, he coughed. “This is my brother, Sam.” He introduced, motioning to his little brother.  
“Hi.” Cassie was only able to breath with a smile, a smile Sam returned.  
Realizing she wasn’t going to say much else, most likely out of shock that they were there, Dean spoke again. “I’m sorry about your Dad.” He offered.  
“Yeah. Me too.” Cassie said remorsefully. Looking around, she took a step back. “Look, uhh, give me a couple of minutes to finish some things up then we can go to my mother’s place, talk there. Is that okay?”  
“Yeah, that’s fine.” Sam assured her, noting how Dean still watched her in slight awe.  
*  
“My mother’s in pretty bad shape. I’ve been staying with her.” Cassie explained as she walked in with a tray of tea. “I wish she wouldn’t go off by herself, she’s been so nervous and frightened. She was worried about Dad.”   
“Why?” Dean asked from the sofa.  
“He was scared. He was seeing things.”  
“Like what?”  
“He swore he saw an awful-looking black truck following him.” She said, though her tone was evident that she didn’t quite believe it herself.   
“A truck? Who was the driver?” Sam asked.  
“He didn’t talk about a driver, just the truck.” She declared, bringing a mug to each of the boys. “He said it would appear and disappear. And in the accident, Dad’s truck was dented, like it had been slammed into by something big.”  
“Thanks.” Sam mumbled as he and his brother took their drinks. “Now, you’re sure this dent wasn’t there before?”  
“He sold cars, always driving a new one. There wasn’t a scratch on that thing. It had rained hard that night. There was mud everywhere. There was a distinct set of muddy tracks from Dad’s car leading right…” Her voice cracked as she tried not to cry, the memory of the scene taking over her mind. “To the edge where he went over.” She sat silently for a moment, her head hung low before it snapped up, determination laced with confusion lacing her expression. “One set of tracks, his!”  
“And the first person killed was a friend of your father’s?” Dean checked.   
“Best friend, Clayton Sommes. They owned a car dealership together.” She confirmed. “Same thing; dent, no tracks. And the cops said exactly what they said about Dad, He lost control of his car.”  
“Oh that doesn’t sound suspicious at all.” Claire mumbled from where she sat in the corner of the room, breaking her earlier silence.  
“Can you think of any reason why your father and his partner might be targets?” Dean asked.  
“No.” Cassie shook her head.  
“And you think this vanishing truck ran him off the road?” Sam thought of any similar cases he might have heard of before that could possibly help them.  
“When you say it aloud like that…” Cassie replied, avoiding looking at the brothers. “Listen, I’m a little skeptical about this... ghost... stuff, or whatever it is you guys are into.”   
Claire scoffed at this. “I believe that’s putting it a little lightly.”   
At the same time, Dean let out a breathy chuckle. “Huh. Skeptical. If I remember, I think you said I was nuts.”   
“That’s putting it lightly too.” Claire piped up.   
“That was then.” Was all Cassie offered.  
“Hm.” Dean hummed shortly.  
Beside him, Sam looked between the two, noting the similar stubbornness.  
“I just know I can’t explain what happened up there, so I called you.” Suddenly tension was pulled from the room as all eyes were brought to the front door as it squeaked open, making everyone immediately stand up. “Mom! Where have you been? I was so-” Cassie asked, running to her mother as she came into the house.   
“Oh, I had no idea you invited friends over.” Her mother said, looking between the Winchesters.  
“Uh, Mom, this is Dean, a friend of mine from… college,” Cassie lied. “And his brother Sam.”  
“Well, I- I- I- I, uhh, won’t interrupt you.” Her mother stammered, beginning to make a quick escape.   
“Mrs. Robinson.” Dean called to her.   
“Hmm?” She turned back.   
“We’re sorry for your loss.” He told her gently. “We’d like to talk to you for a minute, if you don’t mind.”  
At this, Mrs. Robinson pulled away, looking almost vaguely offended. “I’m really not up to that just now.” She said before walking away, the tension returning to the room almost immediately.   
*  
The following morning did not greet them too kindly, as Dean’s phone rang early in the morning, waking everyone in the motel room. Groaning, Dean reached up to the ledge on the bed’s headboard to grab his phone. “Hello?” He said gruffly, still half asleep. When he flew into a seated position, Sam and Claire’s attention was on him, both instantly awake. “There’s been another death?” He repeated. “Where?”


	30. Route 666 Part 2

“Jimmy meant something to this town. He was one of our best.” The Mayor said as he walked with Cassie along the edge of the crash scene. “It won’t be the same without him.”  
“Our best seem to be dropping like flies.” Cassie said venomously, turning her head to glare at him. “Clayton. My father. Jimmy.” She listed off.  
“What is it you exactly want me to do?” He asked incredulously.   
“Well how about closing this section of road for starters?” She exclaimed.  
“Close the main road? The only road in and out of town. Accidents do happen, Cassie. That’s what they are.” His voice was almost too slick, as though he was trying to steer her away from something terrible.   
“Did the cops check for additional denting on Jimmy’s car? See if it was pushed” Dean asked as he, Sam and Claire joined Cassie’s side.  
“Who’s this?” The Mayor asked in annoyance, nodding to Dean.  
“Dean and Sam Winchester. They’re family friends.” Cassie stated. “This is Mayor Harold Todd.”  
“There was one set of tire tracks. One.” Mayor Todd said, looking at the young people in turn. “Doesn’t point to foul play.”  
“Mayor, the police and town officials take their cues from you. If you’re indifferent about-”  
“Indifferent?” He repeated.  
“Would you close the road if the victims were white?” Cassie challenged him levelly.  
“Crap. You go girl.” Claire muttered, surprising Dean by actually saying something. Claire, however, appeared to be the only other one to react aloud.  
“You suggestin I’m racist, Cassie?” The Mayor asked before straightening slightly. “I’m the last person you should talk to like that.”  
“And why’s that?” Cassie replied confidently.  
“Why don’t you ask your mother.” He said, almost unwillingly before leaving the small shocked group as a siren began to scream.  
Looking between Cassie and the Mayor, Dean began to move his hand to place it on Cassie’s shoulder before thinking better of it and letting it drop back down. “I think Sam and I should get to work.” He said lowly.   
“Yeah, I think I should too.” Cassie said in frustration before she stalked away.  
*  
Before the boys could do any work however, they stopped at the motel to change into their suits. Tension remained in the air once again as all three of them were silent, the brothers getting ready while Claire stood with her arms crossed by the door.  
“I’ll say this for her: she’s fearless. I can see what you liked about her.” Sam said, swinging his jacket around to put it on, joining Dean’s side at the mirror to finish tying his tie.   
“Mmmhmmm.” Dean hummed in agreement.  
“Bet she kicked your ass a couple of times.” Sam added, earning an unwillingly but blank look. “What’s interesting is you guys never really look at each other at the same time. You look at her when she’s not lookin, she checks you out when you look away. It’s just a- just an interesting observation, in a, you know, observationally interesting way.”  
“You think we might have some more pressing issues here?” Dean asked in quiet frustration.   
“Hey, if I’m hittin a nerve-” Sam started.  
Dean however rolled his eyes and stalked away. “Oh, let’s go.”   
Claire, who normally would have been laughing at the situation, remained stony and silent by the door as Sam huffed a laugh.  
*  
Aside from Sam’s occasional quiet laughter, the ride to the docks was silent, as well as the walk through as they looked for the people of interest. Rounding a corner, they came upon a white man and a black man sitting at a small table, playing checkers as they ate lunch.   
“Excuse me, you Ron Stubbins?” Dean asked, putting his hands in his pockets. The white man at the table nodded, allowing Dean to continue. “You were friends with Jimmy Anderson?”  
“Who are you?” The man asked in return.  
“We’re with Mr. Anderson’s insurance company We're just here to dot 'I's' and cross 'T's'.”  
“We were just wondering, had the deceased mentioned any unusual recent experiences?” Sam cut in.  
“What do you mean, unusual?” Ron scoffed  
“Well visions, hallucinations...” Sam suggested, looking at his brother.  
“It's part of a- a medical examination kind of thing. All very standard.” Dean added.  
“What company did you say you were with?  
“All National Mutual.” Dean replied, pulling a paper out partially from the inside of his jacket to show the man. Ron’s friend’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked between the pair. “Tell me, did he ever mention seeing a truck? A big black truck?”  
“What the hell you talking about? You even speaking English?” Ron looked away.  
“Son this… this truck, a big scary monster looking thing?” The other man, previously quiet, now asked thoughtfully.  
“Yeah actually, I think so.” Dean said.  
“Hmm.” The other man hummed.  
“What?”  
“I have heard of a truck like that.” He replied, keeping his eyes downcast.  
“You have? Where?” Sam asked in surprise.  
“Not where. When. Back in the '60s there was a string of deaths. Black men. Story goes, they disappeared in a big, nasty, black truck.” The man recounted.  
“They ever catch the guy who did it?” Dean asked.  
“Never found him. Hell, not sure they even really looked.” The man scoffed. “See there was a time, this town wasn't too... friendly to all its citizens.” With this he glanced at Ron, who simply made a face.  
Seeing the conversation was over, Sam nodded. “Thank you.” He said before he and his brother walked away.  
Once they were out of distance, Dean spoke as they walked back to the car. “Truck.”  
“Keeps coming up, doesn't it?” Sam asked.  
“You know, I was thinking. You heard of the flying dutchman?” Dean replied.  
“Yeah, a ghost ship, infused with the Captain's evil spirit. It was basically part of him.” Sam recounted.  
“So what if we're dealing with the same thing? You know, a phantom truck, an extension of some bastard's ghost, re-enacting past crimes.” Dean suggested.  
“The victims have all been black men.” Sam noted, thinking of the black man who had told them what ha happened in the past only moments ago.  
“I think it's more than that. They all seem connected to Cassie and her family.” Dean said.  
“All right. Well, you work that angle, go talk to her.” Sam told him.  
“Yeah I will.” Dean replied gruffly.  
“Oh, and you might also wanna mention that other thing.” Sam suggested.  
At this, Dean stopped and turned to look at his younger brother. “What other thing?”  
“The serious, unfinished business?” Sam said as though it were obvious. Dean didn’t respond though, looking at him blankly. “Dean, what is going on between you two?”  
Licking his lower lip, Dean’s eyes wandered as he replied. “All right, so maybe we were a little bit more involved than I said.”  
“Oh, Ok.” Sam shrugged, clearly waiting for more of an answer.  
“Okay, a lot more. Maybe.” This made Sam laugh. “And I told her our secret, about what we do. And I shouldn't have.”  
“Ah look man, everybody's gotta open up to someone sometime.” Sam said in understanding.  
“Yeah I don't. It was stupid to get that close. I mean, look how it ended.” Dean replied.  
“Well it was easy with Claire, because she lived the same life. She knew what it was like. But with her gone, it’s understandable you had to talk to someone about it eventually. Someone not involved.” Sam shrugged.  
“Would you stop!” Dean said loudly.   
“I’m just saying-” Sam started to defend himself.  
“You don’t have to!” Dean cut him off.  
“You loved her.” Sam said bluntly in understanding.  
“Claire? Yeah, of course I did. Still do.” Dean turned away, looking at Claire who sat in the backseat of the Impala, clearly listening to the conversation as she watched the brothers.   
“I meant Cassie.” Sam corrected him.  
At this, Dean rolled his eyes and began to walk to the driver door. “Oh God.” Looking back at Claire, he saw she had crossed her arm, facing forwards in the vehicle.  
“You were in love with her, but you dumped her.” Sam pushed. When Dean didn’t reply, only looking annoyed and somewhat regretful, realization hit Sam. “Oh wow. She dumped you.”  
“Get in the car.” Dean ordered, getting into the car. “Get in the car!” He reiterated when he saw Sam not moving.  
Outside, Sam was slow to move as he thought over this new information. Dean had been in love with another woman after Claire. He had managed to move on after Claire, only to have his heart broken for it. No wonder why he didn’t want to talk about it.  
*  
“You may have to push for answers.” Claire said as she and Dean walked up the stairs to Cassie’s house.  
“Maybe not from Cassie, but definitely her Mom.” Dean mumbled.  
“Whatever way gets us done this case and back on the road again.” She muttered, earning a curious look from him before he knocked on the door.  
After a moment of waiting, footsteps approached the other side of the door before it opened with a squeak, revealing Cassie on the other side. “Dean!” She said in surprise.  
“Hey.” He said, earning the same welcome at the same time.   
“Come on in.” She said, stepping aside to let him through the door. Inside, Claire already sat on the couch waiting.  
“So, been busy?” Dean asked, coming to a stop to turn back to Cassie in the middle of the foyer.  
“Uh, the paper's doing a tribute to Jimmy…” She trailed off before walking to her desk to sort through the papers there. “I was just going through his stuff...his awards. Trying to find the words.”  
Leaning back against a pillar, Dean nodded. “That's gotta be tough.”  
“For years this family owned the paper. The Dorians? They had a whites only policy.” She explained, turning back to face Dean. “After they sold it Jimmy became the first black reporter. He didn't stop ‘til he became editor...” Her voice softening, she walked back over to Dean, memories replaying in her mind of Jimmy. “He taught me everything…” Trying to focus once more on the present, she gave him a smile. “So, where's your brother?”  
“Not here.” He replied after a moment of struggling for the right words.  
Putting her arms behind her, Cassie leaned back against the pillar opposite of Dean’s in the doorway. “All right. So, uh, what brings you here?”  
“Trying to find the connection between the three victims. By the way, did you talk to your mum about, what Todd said about not being a racist?”  
“I did. She didn't want to talk about it.” She said.  
“Right…” He said quietly before looking at her curiously. “So just then, why did you ask where my brother was?”  
Cassie was quick to shake her head. “Nothing. Not important.”  
“Sure.” Claire snorted from where she sat with her arms crossed and legs stretched out, her gaze fixed on the ground in front of her.  
Dean however ignored her. “Could it be because, without him here it's just you and me? Not you, me and Sam which would be easier?”   
“It's not easier... Look, I…” Cassie tried to save herself, however Dean cut her off.  
“No. Forget it. It's fine. We'll keep it strictly business.” He gave her a tight smile.  
This made her scoff. “I forgot you do that.” She said rather loudly.  
Looking up from the paper he had picked up from off the desk, he blinked rapidly. “Do what?”  
She pursed her lips in frustration. “Oh. Whenever we get, what's the word.... Close? Anywhere in the neighbourhood of emotional vulnerability, you back off. Or make some joke. Or find any way to shut the door on me.”  
“Here we go.” Claire muttered, knowing exactly where this was leading.  
Throwing the paper back onto the desk in frustration, Dean stalked across the room back to Cassie. “Oh, that's hilarious. See, I'm not the one who took that big final door and slammed it behind me.”  
“Wait a minute…”  
“And I'm not the one who took the key and buried it.” He continued despite Cassie’s attempt to interrupt him.  
“Are we done with this metaphor?”  
“All I'm saying is I was totally up front with you back then, and you nailed me for it.” He frowned as he finished.  
“The guy I'm with, the guy I'm hoping might be in my future, tells me he professionally pops ghosts.” She exploded back.  
“That's not the words I used!”  
“And that he has to leave, to go work with his father.”  
“I did!”  
“All I could think was, if you want out fine, but don't tell me this insane story.”  
“It was the truth Cassie, and I notice it didn't sound insane the minute you thought I could help you.” He shouted back.  
“Well back then I thought you just wanted to dump me.” She said almost desperately, turning away from him.  
This stunned him. “Whoa! Now let's not forget who dumped who ok?”  
“I thought it was what you wanted.” She shouted.  
“Well it wasn't.” He replied.  
“I didn't mean to hurt you.”  
“Well you did.”  
“I'm sorry!”  
“Yeah me too.”  
Finally, the shouting stopped as they looked at each other heatedly. Suddenly Cassie’s hands were cradling Dean’s face as she pressed a firm kiss to Dean’s mouth. Instantly he responded before they pulled away for a moment. Understanding they wanted the same thing, they embraced once again, with her pushing his jacket off his broad frame and to the ground as he tugged her closer.   
As the two stumbled upstairs still stuck together, Claire got off the couch and walked through the front door. On the porch, she sat on the front steps and cradling her knees to her chest, began to sob. For the first time in a long time, she felt cold.


End file.
